























(Euarterlp ^evtes, 

THIRD VOLUME. 


THE HISTORY OF THE SACRED 
PASSION. 



By the Editor of this Volume. 

VITA VIT^E NOSTRVE MEDITANTIBUS 
PROPOSITA. 

Cloth, 7 s. 6 d .; calf, ioj. 6 d . 

[BURNS AND OATES.] 


r 


ROEHAMPTON : PRINTED BY JAMES STANLEY, 


THE HISTORY OF 
THE SACRED PASSION 


From the Spanish of 


/ 


FATHER LUIS DE LA PALMA 


OF THE SOCIETY OF JESUS. 


The translation revised and edited by 

HENRY JAMES COLERIDGE 

OF THE SAME SOCIETY. 



LONDON: 

BURNS AND OATES, PORTMAN STREET 

AND PATERNOSTER ROW. 

1872. 

CS* 

[All rights reserved .] 





























Mv 6r /^-D 3-S" 


>73 


SALUTIS * HUMANE * SATOR 
JESU * VOLUPTAS * CORDIUM 
ORBIS • REDEMPTI * CONDITOR 
ET * CASTA * LUX * AMANTIUM 

QUA * VICTUS ‘ ES # CLEMENTIA 
UT * NOSTRA * FERRES * CRIMINA 
MORTEM ' SUBIRES * INNOCENS 
A * MORTE * NOS * UT * TOLLERES 

TE * COGAT * INDULGENTIA 
UT ’ DAMNA * NOSTRA * SARCIAS 
TUIQUE * VULTUS * COMPOTES 
DITES * BEATO * LUMINE 

JESU • TIBI ' SIT * GLORIA 
QUI * NATUS ‘ ES * DE ‘ VIRGINE 
CUM * PATRE ' ET * ALMO * SPIRITU 
IN ‘ SEMPITERNA * SPECULA. 

AMEN. 












PREFACE. 

[BY THE EDITOR.] 


Father Luis de la Palma, the author of the following 
pages, was a Spanish member of the Society of Jesus in the 
first century of its existence, having entered the noviciate, at 
the age of sixteen, in 1575, and having died at Madrid in 
1641, at the ripe age of eighty two years, sixty six of which 
had been spent in religion. Father Palma was a native of 
Toledo. He appears to have been distinguished for those 
gifts which make a good religious Superior, as he was twice 
Provincial of the province of Toledo, and spent many years 
in governing various Colleges of the Society. That he was 
a man of sound and deep theological learning is sufficiently 
proved by the work which is now presented to the English 
reader, and which he informs us himself was meant as a 
sort of Introduction and Companion to a much larger book 
on the Spiritual Life according to the method and rules of 
St. Ignatius. Of this larger work we have only fragments 
remaining, which are, however, complete in themselves as 
treatises on specific subjects.'"' Everything that he has written 
is of the most sterling value, and has always been very highly 
esteemed, especially by those who have laboured in illustrating 

* One of these, On the Particular Examen , has already been translated, 
and will shortly be published by the publishers of the present volume. 


Vlll 


Preface. 


and explaining the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. As a 
proof of this I may mention that in one of the most recent 
and most valuable works on the Exercises, published at Rome 
in 1868 by Father Giuseppe Ciccolini, at the time director of 
the House of Exercises at Sant’ Eusebio, a large proportion 
of the explanations of the plan of St. Ignatius is taken from 
Father Palma’s work, the Camino Sfiiritucde. 

The intention of the author in the work now published is 
explained by himself in the Prologue which is prefixed to this 
volume, and which may be safely recommended as an admi¬ 
rable summary of St. Ignatius’ method of meditation called 
the Exercise of the Three Powers. He there tells us that the 
book is designed both for simple reading and also for the 
purpose of furnishing matter to those who are in the habit of 
practising meditation, and of preparing their meditation for 
themselves. Those who use the book for the first named 
purpose will hardly discover that it is intended also to serve 
the other; while those who practise meditation and refer to 
these pages for matter pregnant with rich considerations and 
suggestive of copious affections and practical resolutions, will 
not find it easy to exhaust the stores which are here so 
unostentatiously collected. It may be worth while to point 
out that the design of the author that his book should thus 
serve the purpose of a storehouse for meditation on the 
Passion accounts for the only kind of amplification which he 
has allowed himself. This is the paraphrastic commentary 
which he generally substitutes for or subjoins to the words of 
our Blessed Lord in the various scenes of the Passion. The 
meaning of these sacred words is often very fully and lovingly 






Preface. 


IX 


brought out, although the narrative form in which the whole 
work is cast might less naturally suggest this method of 
treatment, so valuable to those who desire to feed on the 
sayings of our Blessed Saviour in all their rich fertility of 
meaning. 

Father Palma has taken one whole chapter from the 

famous John of Avila’s Treatise on the Love of God ' and his 

references to that author in other places are frequent His 

example may serve as an excuse, if any be needed, for the 

single addition which has been made in this translation to the 

original text, namely, the insertion, at the beginning of the 

history, of the Prelude to the Meditation on the Passion 

written by the celebrated Father Jerome Nadal, who, though 

not one of the original companions of St. Ignatius, was sought 

out by the Saint even during his own sojourn in Paris, and, 

when he had joined his former friend after the lapse of many 

years, became one of the most conspicuous Fathers of the 

first generation of the Society. The reader will remark how 

much this Prelude embodies of the grand theology of the 

Incarnation, carrying out in this the thought specially insisted 

on by St. Ignatius in his directions for meditation on the 

Passion, that we should continually remind ourselves Who it 

is that suffers. As Father Palma has mentioned in his own 
» 

Prologue that he has divided the narrative of the Passion into 
paragraphs, with an especial view to the use of his books by 
persons who are in the habit of meditating, I have endea¬ 
voured to make the analytical table of Contents as complete 
as possible, in order that a glance at that table may serve the 
purpose of the shortest possible summary of each paragraph. 

A 



X 


Preface. 


I fear that the translation will be found to be, at least in 
parts, rugged and unpolished; but I have tried, on the other 
hand, to make it as faithful as possible, and to that object I 
have been well content to sacrifice smoothness of style, though 
the original deserves the most careful rendering in matter and 
in form. Palma belongs to what I believe is the best age of 
Spanish religious literature : the age of Louis of Grenada, 
John of Avila, Louis of Leon, St. Teresa, St. John of the 
Cross, Louis da Ponte, and other famous writers. In point 
of style he is, perhaps, not equal to them, but he shares with 
many of these writers the characteristics of masculine common 
sense, theological culture alike exquisite and solid, and the 
tenderest and simplest piety. Happily these are qualities 
which do not easily evaporate in a translation. 

I may also add that I have thought it better not to 
attempt in any way to edit Father Palma as to points on 
which he would perhaps write differently were he living in 
the present century. Since his time the study of the character¬ 
istics of the several Gospels and of the object with which they 
were originally written, and the careful and critical examination 
of questions of harmony, have certainly made no little real 
progress, and though in general we find him surprisingly in 
agreement with the results of the soundest criticism of this 
kind, there are perhaps some points as to which other arrange¬ 
ments of the history might seem preferable to that which 
he has followed. His account of the Via Dolorosa from 
Adrichomius is drawn from the best sources available to him, 
and shows the importance which he attached to these local 
questions, though his conclusions may sometimes be as 




Preface . 


xi 


uncertain as his description of the moon placing itself in 
front of the sun to produce the miraculous darkness at the 
crucifixion seems to us to be fantastical. In the same way, 
he is certainly uncritical in admitting as genuine the ancient, 
but apocryphal, letter to Tiberius, attributed to Pontius Pilate, 
and modern science will probably smile at his statement 
about the four humours and the four elements in connection 
with the reality of our Lord’s Body. But to enter into 
these questions at any length would have increased the bulk 
of the volume, and would also have been foreign to the 
purpose for which the translation has been made. 

That purpose will have been abundantly gained, if this 
volume should in any way tend to spread the knowledge 
and assist the contemplation of the great mystery of our 
Redemption, and especially if it shall facilitate that use, first 
of the Christian reason and then of the heart, upon the 
several scenes of that mystery, in which the spiritual exercise 
of meditation essentially consists. If to raise a wayside 
Cross, or set up a picture of the Crucifixion, is a service 
acceptable to the Sacred Heart of Him Who had us all 
present to His thoughts while suffering for us, we may well 
be thankful for the privilege of being allowed to lay at the 
foot of His Cross these humble labours, which have had no 
other object than that of making His Passion better known 
to those for whom it was endured. 

H. J. C. 

London, Feast of St. Laurence, 1872. 


A 2 



CONTENTS 


PROLOGUE AND 

PROLOGUE 

TO THE FATHERS AND BROTHERS OF THE 
SOCIETY OF JESUS. 

§ 1 . 

Reasons for writing the History of the 
Sacred Passion. 

PAGE 

This volume part of a work on 
the Exercises . . . i 

St. Ignatius gives general rules 
for meditation . . . i 

All subjects fit for meditation . 3 

Preeminent fitness of the Passion 3 
This subject therefore selected . 4 

§2. 

Of the method which we should observe 
in meditating on the Sacred Passion. 


Importance of general recollec¬ 
tion .5 

The Preludes to Meditation . 5 

Application of the three powers 6 
Analogy of bodily nourishment. 7 


§ 3 . 

How the memory may be aided in the 
work of meditation. 

The matter to be ready at hand 9 
The points given or prepared . 9 


INTRODUCTION. 

PAGK 

First recommendation of St. 
Ignatius as to fidelity to 

truth.10 

Second recommendation as to 
brevity of explanation. .11 

Difference between spiritual read¬ 
ing and meditation . .12 

Some persons fitter for each . 13 

This history meant for both . 14 

Affections and resolutions sug¬ 
gested . . . -IS 

Something to be left for the 
meditant himself. . 15 

Third recommendation, a certain 
number of points . .16 

§ 4 - 

How the understanding may be aided 
in meditating on the Sacred Passion. 

The understanding helped to dis¬ 
course . . . .18 

Six circumstances to be con¬ 
sidered . . . .18 

First, the persons . . .18 

Second, the words (or silence) 19 
Third, the actions . . 19 

Fourth, our Lord’s Heart. . 19 

Fifth, His Divinity . . . 19 

Sixth, that He suffered for me . 19 





Contents. 


xm 


PAGE 

§ 5 - 

The affections which may be drawn 
from meditation on the Passion for 
the purpose of aiding the will. 

Importance of affections . .21 

First, Compassion . . .21 

Second, Abhorrence of Sin . 22 

Third, Fear of God’s justice . 22 

Fourth, Admiration of God’s 
wisdom . . . .22 

Fifth, Hope . . . .23 

Sixth, Love of our Lord . . 23 

S eventh, Imitation of His virtues 23 
Eighth, Defence against temp¬ 
tation .24 

Ninth, Zeal for souls . . 24 

Tenth, Selfoblation . . 25 

§ 6 . 

Of the Colloquy. 

'Colloquy to be made at the end 
of the meditation . . 26 

The great field opened to us 
in the meditation of the 
Passion . . . .26 

Note to the Introduction. 

Father Jerome Nadal’s Prelude to 
the Meditation on the Passion 
of Christ. 

Jesus Christ was God in His 


suffering . . . *27 

The Humanity of Jesus was a 
true humanity . . -27 

Grace and glory of His Soul . 28 

His wonderful knowledge and 
virtues . . . -29 

How He advanced in wisdom . 29 

What did He suffer ? . . 30 

From whom? . . . .31 

Where did He suffer ? . .31 

For whom? . . . . 32 


PAGE 

The abundant fruits, and also 
the loss of souls . . -32 

Points that may be especially 
dwelt on . . *33 

INTRODUCTION TO THE HIS¬ 
TORY OF THE SACRED 
PASSION. 

Introduction as to Holy Week . 34 

The raising of Lazarus . . 34 

The Council and the Prophecy 
of Caiaphas . . -35 

The blindness and perversity of 
the Jews . . . -35 

Our Lord retires to Ephrem . 36 

He leaves Ephrem for Jerusalem 36 
Discourses and miracles on the 

way. 37 

Arrival at Bethany six days be¬ 
fore the Pasch . . -37 

Supper at Bethany . . -37 

Reception on Palm Sunday . 38 

Weeping over Jerusalem . . 38 

In the Temple . . . 38 

Monday, the fig tree and the 
cleansing of the Temple . 39 

Tuesday, Preaching to the people 40 
Wednesday, the Prophecy on the 
Mount of Olives . . 40 

Council against our Lord . . 41 

Treacheiy of Judas . . .42 

Agreement with the Chief Priests 43 
Thursday, preparation for the 
Pasch . . .44 

The Paschal Supper . . 44 

The washing of the feet—the 
Institution of the Most Holy 
Sacrament . . *45 

Friday, the Parasceve . . 45 

Our Saviour taken down from 
the Cross on Friday evening 45 
Saturday, the holy women in 
retirement . . . .46 







XIV 


Contents. 


THE HISTORY OF THE SACRED PASSION. 


Charter I. 

The Council against our Saviour and 
His betrayal by Judas. 

PAGE 


Our Lord foretelling His Passion 49 
Council of the Chief Priests . 49 

Evil state of Judas . . - 5 ° 

The supper at Bethany . . 51 

Martha serving . . . 52 

The anointing by Magdalene . 52 

Our Lord defending her . . 53 

Murmuring of Judas . . 54 

Judas goes to the Chief Priests. 54 

They fix the price of our Lord’s 
betrayal . . . -54 


Chapter II. 

Jesus eats the Paschal Lamb with 
His Disciples. 

Our Lord sends St. Peter and 
St. John to prepare the room 55 
He eats the Paschal Lamb with 
His disciples . . .56 

His desire to eat that Pasch 
with them . . . . 56 

Our Lord foretells the treason of 

Judas.57 

Our Lord’s warning to him . 58 

Judas asks, e Is it I ? ’ . . 58 

Chapter III. 

Our Saviour washes the feet of His 
Disciples. 

Our Lord loves them to the end 59 
His humiliation in the washing 
of the feet . . . .60 

St. Peter’s resistance . .61 

Our Lord’s answer . . .61 

The feet alone need cleansing . 62 


Chapter IV. 

Our Lord institutes the Afost Hoty 
Sacrament, and declares to St.John 
who is His betrayer. 

PAGE 

Our Lord’s intention in the 
Blessed Sacrament . . 63 

Lessons of the washing of the feet 64 
Consecration and Communion . 65 

The consecration of the Chalice 66 
Excellence of the New Testament 66 
He gives power to the Apostles 
to consecrate . . .66 

The Bread of Angels . . 67 

Communion of Judas . . 68- 

St.John leaning on the Sacred 
Heart . . . .68 

St. Peter and St. John . . 68 

Our Lord gives the sop to Judas 69 
‘ What thou doest, do quickly ’. 69 

Chapter V. 

Our Saviour takes leave of His most 
holy Mother before going to His 
Passion. 

Our Blessed Lady’s knowledge 


of the Passion . . . 71 

The Passion her constant medi¬ 
tation . . . .72 

Her love for sinners . . -73 

Our Lady at the Last Supper . 73 

Our Lord’s Thanksgiving . 74 

His Farewell of His Mother . 75 

Her resignation . . -75 


Chapter VI. 

Our Saviour goes to the Garden and 
tells His Disciples of His Sorrow. 

Our Lord warns them against 

scandal . . . . 7^ 






Contents . 


xv 


PAGE 

Special warning to St. Peter . 77 

The way to the Garden . . 78 

Our Lord retires with three of 
His Disciples . . -79 

Our Lord permitting His own 
Sorrow . . . -79 

Our Lord’s condescension . 81 

Chapter VII. 

The causes of the Sorrotv which our 

Saviour endured. 

The fatigue He had endured that 

day.83 

He had suffered the presence of 
Judas . . . .84 

He had parted from His Blessed 
Mother . . . .84 

The hatred and ill will of His 
enemies . . . . 85 

The being forsaken by His 
friends . . . .86 

The anticipation of suffering and 
death . . . -87 

Of the various stages of His 
Passion . . . .87 

His death on Mount Calvary . 88 

He began to tremble and fear . 88 

Chapter VIII. 

Of other more secret cause of our 
Saviour’s Sorrow. 

The Agony . . . .89 

The greatness of His love for 

God.89 

The immense love of our Saviour 
for men . . . .90 

He beheld Himself laden with 
their sins . . . . 91 

‘ The Lord hath laid on Him the 
iniquity of us all ’ . . 91 

Our Lord feeling our sins as 

His own .... 91 


PAGE 

His humility and charity. . 92 

Our ingratitude and neglect to 

return His love ... 93 

The sufferings and temptations 

of His followers . . 94 

Chapter IX. 

Our Saviour prays in the Garden and 


sweats Blood. 

Our Lord withdraws Himself 

even from His friends . 95 

He kneels and prostrates Him¬ 
self on the ground . . 96 

‘ Abba Pater ! ’ . . .96 

His Father’s will . . -97 

Visiting the disciples asleep . 98 

Warning to St. Peter . . 98 

He returns a second time to 

prayer .... 98 

Great interior conflict . . 99 

His agony increased, and He 

prays longer . . .100 

The Eternal Father’s decision. 101 
The Angel of Comfort . . 101 

The disciples asleep a third 

time .... 102 

The active malice of Judas . 102 

The teaching of our Lord about 

prayer . . . .103 

Chapter X. 

Our Saviour is betrayed and seized. 

Judas and his band . .104 

He leads them to the Garden . 105 

The kiss of Judas . . . 106 

The troop arrives at Gethse- 

mani .... 107 

Our Lord receives the kiss . 107 

His rebuke to Judas . .108 

They fall to the ground before 

Him . . . .109 


How will it be when He comes 

to judge? . . . .110 






XVI 


Contents. 


PAGE 


The disciples to be unmolested 

IIO 

Peter and Malchus . 

in 

Our Lord heals the ear of 


Malchus . . , . 

112 

He admonishes St. Peter. 

112 

Our Lord taken as a thief 

113 

The soldiers seize Him . 

114 

Flight of the Apostles . 

ii 5 

The Apostles tell our Lady 


what has been done 

ii 5 

Chapter XI. 


Our Saviour is brought before 

the 

Priests and accused. 


Our Saviour dragged to Jeru¬ 


salem .... 

116 

The house of Annas 

117 

St. Peter follows afar off. 

117 

Our Saviour before Caiaphas . 

118 

The High Priest examines Him 

118 

The question as to doctrine 

119 

Our Lord’s reply . 

119 

Our Saviour receives the blow 

120 

Our Lord’s answer to the blow 

121 

The commandment of perfect 


patience .... 

121 

The witnesses against Him 

122 

The false witnesses as to the 


Temple .... 

123 


Chapter XII. 

The Priests condemn our Saviour , 
. and He is insulted and blasphemed. 

Silence of our Lord . *125 

His great meekness . . 125 

The question of the Chief Priest 126 
‘ I am He Whom thou hast 

said’. .... 126 

Caiaphas rending his garments 127 
‘ He is guilty of death’ . . 128 

Our Lord left to the care of the 

guards . . . .128 


PAGE 

Insults of the servants . .129 

Five different sorts of insult . 130 

Chapter XIII. 

St. Peter denies our Saviour. 


Times of the three denials . 131 

Place of the denials . . 133 

St. Peter standing warming 

himself . . . • 134 

The maidservant accuses St. 

Peter . . . . 134 

The first denial . . • J 34 

Great weakness after presump¬ 
tion .... 135 

The first cockcrow . . 135 

Interval after the first denial . 135 

The second denial . . .136 

Confirmed with an oath . .136 

The third denial and the second 

cockcrow . . . -137 

Our Lord looks on St. Peter . 138 

St. Peter entering into himself. 138 
Weeping bitterly . . .138 

Weeping in secret . . 139 

Why he was allowed to fall . 139 

Mercifulness of true penitence. 140 


Chapter XIV. 

On the Love with which Christ our 
Lord suffered for men.* 

Our Lord’s Heart during that 

night .... 142 

Graces of the sacred Humanity 

—Union with God . 143 

Graces as head of all men . 143 

His love and gratitude . .144 

The redemption of man com¬ 
mitted to Him . . . 144 

Hence our Lord’s care for men 145 
And His love for the Cross . 146 

* Taken from Master Avila’s Treatise on 
the Love of God. 








Contents. 


xvi 1 


PAGE 

His immense charity . . 147 

Love even of the Apostles for 
the Cross . . . 147 

Our Lord loved more than He 

suffered . . . .148 

He would have suffered far 

more .... 149 

Hence His joy in suffering . 149 


The Eternal Father’s pleasure 149 
Chapter XV. 

Our Saviour is condemned by the 
whole Council. 

The Council on Friday morn¬ 
ing .150 

Our Lord in the streets . . 151 

The report brought to . our 

Blessed Lady . . 151 

Our Saviour before the whole 


Council . . . .152 

He answers the question they 

put to Him . . . 153 

The second Condemnation . 153 

Fury of the Jews . . .154 


Chapter XVI. 

Our Saviour is brought before the 
Governor, and Judas hangs himself. 

Our Saviour taken to the Prse- 

torium of Pilate. . . 155 

They bind Him with chains . 156 

Repentance of Judas . . 157 

He returns the thirty pieces of 
silver .... 157 

The priests rejecting him . 158 

* Look you to your own sin’ . 159 

Judas hanging himself . . 159 

Judasmighthavebeen pardoned 159 
Our Lady would have inter¬ 
ceded .... 160 

The Chief Priests and the money 160 
The Field of Blood . . 161 


PAGE 

Chapter XVII. 

Pilate examines our Saviour and sends 


Him to Herod. 

Procession to Pilate’s house . 162 

Pilate’s Prsetorium. . .163 

Our Lord before Pilate . .163 

The Priests’ answer to Pilate . 165 

‘ Take ye Him ’ . . 166 

‘ It is not lawful for us ’ . . 166 

Charge of sedition . . .167 

Pilate interrogates our Lord as 

to His Kingdom . .168 

Our Lord’s answer. . .169 

‘Am I a Jew?’ . . . 169 

Our Lord’s Kingdom . .169 

Explanation to Pilate . .170 

‘What is truth?’ . . .171 

Pilate’s answer to the accusers. 172 
Fury of the Chief Priests . 172 

Pilate sends our Lord to Herod 172 


Chapter XVIII. 

Herod mocks our Saviour and treats 
Him as a fool. 

Herod Antipas . . 1 73 

Our Lord before Herod . . 174 

Our Lord’s silence . . .176 

Herod desires to see a miracle 176 
Our Lord’s example of humility 177 
Charges made by the Priests . 177 

Herod treats our Lord as a fool 178 
The courtiers and soldiers de¬ 
ride Him .... 179 

Pilate and Herod made friends 179 

Chapter XIX. 

Pilate examines our Saviour a second 
time, and a second time testifies to 
His innocence. 

Our Saviour led through the 

streets a second time . 180 

Our Lady’s knowledge of what 

was going on . .180 






XX 


Contents. 


PAGE 

Chapter XXIX. 

Of the day and hour and other 
circumstances of the Crucifixion of 
cncr Lord. 

The Evangelists silent as to the 


manner .... 255 

The day, Friday . . -255 

The third and sixth horn: . 256 

Reason for both statements . 257 

Size and shape of the Cross . 258 

Why called a Tree . . 259 

Number of the nails . . 260 

How our Lord was crucified . 261 

Mode implied by the Church’s 

prayer . . . .261 


Our Lady saw the Crucifixion 261 

Chapter XXX. 

Our Saviour is crucified between two 
thieves. 

The wine and myrrh . . 263 

Our Saviour again stripped . 264 

Our Saviour on the Cross . 265 

His great love for it . . 265 

His foresight of its honour . 266 

His face to the West . .267 

Our Lord looking at His Mother 267 
Fastening the nails . . . 268 

The blows heard by our Lady 269 
Anguish of our Lady . . 269 

Crucifixion of the thieves . 270 

The Title of the Cross . .271 

Pilate’s intention . . .271 

Chapter XXXI. 

The Jews and Gentiles insult our 
Saviour on the Cross. 

The people mocking our Lord 272 
The soldiers and the Raiment 272 
Watching our Lord . . 274 

* Thou that destroyest the 

Temple’ .... 274 



PAGE 

Barbarity of the insults . 

275 

The Priests and Scribes . 

276 

The prophecy fulfilled . 

The Priests misleading the 

276 

people .... 

277 

Complaint about the Title 

278 

Chapter XXXII. 


How good Christians find a pattern , 

remedy, and consolation in 
Christ crucified. 

Jesus 

God’s Wisdom on the Cross . 

279 

Obedience, Patience, Peace . 
Immense sufferings crowded 

279 

together .... 

280 

Immense Humiliation . 

281 

Inconstancy of friends . 

281 

Abandonment by the Father . 

282 

Sufferings in Honour 

282 

As to His own Person . 

As to those who dishonoured 

283 

Him .... 

283 

As to the crimes of which He 


was accused 

284 

As to the treatment He met 


with. 

284 

Bodily Sufferings . 

He showed that He was more 

285 

than Man. 

286 

His Passion a remedy 

287 

And a consolation . 

287 

Chapter XXXIII. 


What the sight of Jesus Christ cruci¬ 
fied wrought on the Eternal Father. 

The Father rejoices at the sight 


of His Son 

288 

The acceptable Sacrifice. 

289 

Its effects .... 

289 

Mutual love of Father and Son 

290 

Benefits to us from this . 

290 





Contents. 


xxi 


PAGE 

Chapter XXIV. 


The first word which our Saviour 

spoke on the Cross. 


Our Lord avails Himself of His 


Father’s satisfaction . 

291 

He prays for His executioners 

292 

Powerful motives alleged in His 


prayer .... 

292 

The argument of ignorance 

293 

Our Blessed Lady joins in the 


prayer .... 

293 

Chapter XXXV. 


The second word which our Saviour 

spoke on the Cross. 


The thieves on the Cross. 

295 

Blasphemy of the one 

295 

Reproved by the other . 

296 

Meaning of His words . 

296 

‘ We indeed justly ’. 

297 

‘ Lord, remember me ’ . 

298 

Wonderful faith of the thief . 

298 

He understood the excellence 


of suffering 

299 

Our Lord’s answer. 

299 

Chapter XXXVI. 


The sun is eclipsed and darkness is 

over all the earth. 


The sun veiling his face . 

3°° 

Marvellousness of the prodigy. 

3 QI 

Dionysius the Areopagite 

302 

The three hours 

302 

Chapter XXXVII. 


The Blessed Virgin our Lady stands 

with great fortitude at the foot of 

the Cross. 


Our Lady on Calvary 

303 

The holy women . 

304 

Fortitude of our Lady 

305 

Great interior suffering . 

306 


PAGE 

Her love for our Lord as a 

friend and benefactor. . 306 

As a Son .... 306’ 

As her Creator and Redeemer. 307 
Standing under the Cross . 307 

Chapter XXXVIII. 

The third word which our Saviour 
spoke, and which He addressed to 
His most holy Mother and to the 
Apostle St. John. 

Our Lord looking on His Mother 309 


Great gifts bestowed on her . 309 

His desire to thank her . . 310 

And to honour her publicly . 311 

‘ Behold thy Son !’ . . 311 

We are made her children . 311 

A Mother of Sorrow . . 312 


St. John taking her to his own 313 

Chapter XXXIX. 

How while our Saviour was on the 
Cross He had us all present to - 
Him and offered Himself for us 


all. 

Great torment on the Cross . 314 

Prayer made by our Lord . 314 

For all and each of us in par¬ 
ticular .... 315 

Efficacy of this prayer . . 315 


Chapter XL. 

The fourth word which our Saviour 
spoke on the Cross. 

Our Lord’s cry at the ninth 

hour . . . • 3 j 6 

Abandonment by His Father . 316 

Great mystery in this . . 3W 

In what way our Lord could 

not be forsaken. . • 3 l 7 

He was forsaken as to exterior 

succour . . . . 3 j 8 








XXII 


Contents. 


PAGE 


Meetness of this 

319 

And as to interior consolation. 

320 

Our consolation herein . 

Why our Lord cried aloud at 

3 2 ° 

this. 

321 

His pains were real. 

321 

As also His sadness 

He complained of nothing but 

322 

this. 

323 

The Father’s reasons must be 


good. .... 

Our sins the cause of the aban¬ 

324 

donment .... 

325 

Chapter XLI. 


The fifth word which our Saviour 

spoke on the Cross. 


Question of the bystanders as 


to Elias .... 

326 

Our Lord’s cry of thirst . 

326 

Bodily thirst of our Lord 

327 

Suffering of our Lady her eat . 
Our Lord’s thirst for our con¬ 

327 

version .... 

328 

Insatiable love of souls . 

328 

The vessel of vinegar 

329 

Our Lord accepting the vinegar 

329 

Chapter XLII. 


The sixth word which our Saviour 

spoke on the Cross. 


Our Lord’s two offices of 


Teacher and Redeemer . 

330 

‘ It is consummated ’ 

33 i 

The misery of man’s condition. 
Our Lord discharging the full 

33 i 

debt. 

332 

Abundantly purchasing glory . 
Establishing a firm peace with 

333 

God. 

333 

The true Mediator. 

334 

Mediation completed 

334 


PAGE 

All things accomplished . . 335 

Redemption carried on to the 

end . . . . 336 

Lesson of Perseverance . . 336 

No temporary trials can be 

very great . . -337 

Our Lady hearing this word . 337 

T errible martyrdom of her heart 338 
The last word . . . 338 

Chapter XLIII. 

The seventh word which our Saviour 


spoke on the Cross. 

What it is to commend any¬ 
thing into another’s hands . 339 

Confidence in God . . . 339 

Even unto death . . . 340 

Our Lord’s example in this . 340 

The hands of God the abode of 
the souls of the just . . 341 

The Loud Voice . . . 342 

Reason for it . . . . 342 

Arrangement of the seven words 343 
Our Lord’s Prayer certainly 

heard .... 344 

Giving up the Ghost . . 345 

The dead Body on the Cross . 345 


Chapter XLIV. 

On the prodigies which took place after 


the death of our Saviour. 

Return of light . . . 346 

Other prodigies . . . 347 

In the Temple . . . 347 

The Holy and Holy of Holies. 347 
Rending of the Veil . . 348 

Profanation of the Holy of 

Holies .... 349 

The true Manna and Law . 349 

Desertion of the Synagogue . 349 

Entrance into Heaven . . 350 

Through our Lord’s own Blood 350 












Contents. xxiii 


Sign of the wrath of God . 350 

The Earthquake, to acknow¬ 
ledge God . . . 351 

To mourn for His death . . 352 

Because Hell and Death trem¬ 
bled .352 

The death of Death . . 352 

Our Lord Sovereign of all the 

dead .... 352 

The Princes of Darkness trem¬ 
bling . • . -353 

Power of our Lord’s Blood on 

the Centurion . . . 354 

On the soldiers and others . 355 


Chapter XLV. 

A soldier opens the side of our Saviour 


after death. 

The Jews desire to take down 

the bodies. . . *356 

Their fears . . . -356 

Asking Pilate that the legs may¬ 
be broken. . . -357 

Insult to our Lord in this . 357 

The thieves put to death . 358 

Longinus piercing the side . 359 

His intention in this . . 360 

The side ‘ opened ’. . . 360 

The Church bom from our 

Lord’s side . . .361 

The Heart of Jesus. . . 362 

He preserved this wound always 362 


Chapter XLVI. 

Out of the wound of our Lord comes 


forth blood and water. 

The blood and water . . 363 

Healing of Longinus . . 364 

It was true water . . . 364 

Testimony of St. John . . 365 

Who conquers the world ? . 365 

Our Lord came not by water only 366 
Other instances in His life . 366 


PAGE 

Ancient figures of this . . 367 

The shadows of the Law. . 367 

The Precious Blood . . 368 

Sprinkling in the Old Covenant 369 
Our Lord as Mediator . . 370 

Sprinkling of His Blood. . 370 

The three witnesses in heaven 

and on earth . . . 371 

The Blood of our Lord in the 

Sanctuary. . . . 372 

Suffering outside the gate . 372 

Chapter XLVII. 

Pilate gives permission that the Body 
of our Saviour shoidd be taken 
down from the Cross and buried. 


Our Lord’s Body on the Cross 374 
His honour now begins . . 374 

Joseph of Arimathea . . 375 

Nicodemus .... 376 

He had defended our Lord . 376 

Joseph not at the Council . 377 

Takes courage . . -377 

Goes to Pilate . . . 378 

Boldness of the request . -379 

Our Lord’s Body belonged to 

the Church . . . 380 

Pilate marvelling . . .381 

Quickness of our Lord’s death. 382 
The Body ‘ restored ’ . . 383 

Joseph and Nicodemus . . 383 

The law as to touching the dead 383 
Great honour of His burial . 384 


Chapter XLVIII. 

The Body of our Saviour is taken 
down from the Cross and laid in 
the Sepulchre. 

Our Lady at the Cross . . 386 

Her contemplation. . . 386 

Arrival of Joseph and Nico¬ 
demus .... 387 








XXIV 


Contents. 


PAGE 

Their address to our Lady . 388 

Taking down the Body . . 389 

The arms of Mary . . . 389 

Her intelligence of the mystery 390 
Addressing her dead Son . 391 

Jesus in His Mother’s arms . 391 

Colloquy of our Lady . . 392 

Her cooperation . . 393 

The Garden .... 393 

The new sepulchre . . 394 

The Stone of Anointing . ^ 394 

The Burial . . . * . 394 

Fitness of the circumstances . 395 

The holy Women . . . 395 

Our Lady adoring the Cross . 395 

Chapter XLIX. 

Our Saviour descends into Hell to set 
free the souls of the holy Fathers. 

The gates of Heaven closed . 396 

Various receptacles for souls . 397 

Probable arrangement . . 397 

Our Lord’s descent . . 398 

In the Limbus of the Fathers . 398 

Effect of His Presence on the 

other abodes . . . 398 

Purgatory and Hell . . 399 

All knees bowed to our Lord . 399 


Chapter L. 

The Jews put a guard at the 
Sepulchre. 

Fear of the Scribes and Priests 400 
The Priests going to Pilate . 401 

‘ That Deceiver said ’ . .401 

Danger from the people . . 402 

Pilate grants the guard . . 403 

Folly of the Jews . . . 404 

(Apocryphal) Letter of Pilate 

to the Emperor . . 405 

Chapter LI. 

The Blessed Virgin our Lady awaits 
the Resitrrection of her Son. 

Our Lady’s return through the 

city.406 

At the Cenacle . . . 407 

Going over the Passion . *407 

And the descent into Hell . 408 

Care for the Apostles . . 408 

The disciples collected . . 408 

Our Lady and the Church . 409 

St. John relating the Passion . 409 

Feeling in the city . . . 410 

Our Lord’s Body and Soul on 

Holy Saturday. . .411 








Prologue 

To the Fathers and Brothers of the Society of Jesus. 


§ i- 


Reasons for writing this History of the Sacred Passion. 


I have in hand, very Reverend Fathers and dearest Brothers, 
a long treatise, in which my aim is with great care and at full 
length to explain the spiritual way, with all its stages and parts, 
from the beginning of conversion to the final attainment of 
perfection, after the manner and form which our Blessed Father 
St. Ignatius has taught us in his book of the Spiritual Exercises. 
This book, if our Lord sees good to grant me time and His 
grace to accomplish it, will, as I think and hope, be for His glory 
and the honour of our holy Founder, and also for the profit 
of us who profess to belong to and who follow his Society. 
But before bringing the first volume to light, I have thought 
it good first to issue this short history of the Sacred Passion. 
Among many other motives which have influenced me to this 
is the following. 

One of the principal exercises of this spiritual way is that 
of meditation. Now, those who meditate, particularly at the 
outset, are often wont to find themselves devoid of matter, 
and are glad if some one gives them some points on which 
they may profitably employ their thoughts. Now, so it is, that 
although the Blessed Father St. Ignatius has laid down in 
his book some admirable rules as to how the matter should be 
divided for those who are to meditate, nevertheless, what he 

B 



2 


Prologue . 


has left of these points of meditation is little or nothing—so 
exclusively was he occupied in guiding those who were moving 
along the spiritual way, in giving them instructions how to 
perform any exercises of the kind with profit, and in furnishing 
them with rules for making their choices and determinations, 
without any bias of passion, and with excellent advice drawn 
from his own experience and that divine light which was his 
teacher in gaining all prudence and discretion in spiritual 
matters and the knowledge of the various spirits which are 
wont to work within us. And as what men in general seek 
for and desire to find in books are tender and devout dis¬ 
courses which may move their will, such as are not to be found in 
the book of which I speak—while, on the other hand, the rules 
contained in it are subtle and refined, stated with brevity and 
in simple words, intended more for the aid of the director who 
gives the exercises than for his disciples who make them—hence 
it is that this book, so rich in spiritual learning, is known to 
few and understood by fewer. Thus there has been need for a 
larger treatise in order to explain the book, and so give to the 
world the treasures therein locked up that men may enjoy them, 
and bring to day the light and wisdom hidden therein that they 
may be seen—for, as the Wise Man says, 1 Wisdom that is hid, 
and treasure that is not seen, what profit is there in both ?’ 1 
So also it seemed well to supply the deficiency, if so it may be 
called, of matter of meditation, which our holy Father left to 
the care of the directors who were to give the exercises to 
others, who were to set before them the points on which they 
were to meditate, accommodating themselves in everything to 
their capacities and their needs. This, then, has been the 
reason why I have thought fit to write in the first place this 
history of the Sacred Passion, to satisfy the devotion of many, 
and help the needs of others who are in want of matter to 
meditate on, and who desire to have a beginning made for them 
by means of some considerations well founded on truth, so to 
direct thereby their reflections and to move their affections to 
the exercise of perfect virtues. 

1 Ecclus. xx. 32. 




Meditation on the Passion . 


3 


It is, indeed, true that the matters on which we may usefully 
meditate are very abundant and comprise many subjects, such 
as the guilt of sins, the punishments that answer to them, the 
four last things of man, that is, death, judgment, hell, and the 
glory of heaven. It is true that any of these, if meditated upon 
aright, have great power to put a rein on our appetites and 
evil inclinations, and to lead us to despise the perishable things 
of earth and to love those which are eternal and heavenly. 
Again, in the same way, most copious and profitable matter for 
meditation is contained in the whole story of the life of Christ 
our Lord and in every separate passage thereof, His miracles, 
His sermons, and His doctrine, wherein is contained the sum 
of all truth; in His Sacred Passion and death, His glorious 
resurrection and ascension; and, again, in the benefits of God 
and His divine perfections. It is true that all these things are 
matter for meditation; every one of them, moreover, contains 
many and different parts, each of which may be divided into 
several points, and every point has tender considerations of its 
own, and may be looked at in various ways, some being more 
suitable for some seasons and persons, and others for other 
seasons and persons. All this is true : and yet, with all this, 
the history of the Sacred Passion and death of our Saviour 
contains excellencies and advantages of its own above all other 
subjects on which we can exercise ourselves in meditation. 

For, in the first place, as we shall elsewhere show at greater 
length, meditation upon the Passion of our Lord is good for all 
persons and for all conditions of men. It has power to tear 
men away from a bad life and to rouse up beginners to sorrow 
for their sins and abhorrence of them. It gives strength and 
a most perfect example of virtue to those who are making 
progress, and it is the most forcible incentive to love for the 
perfect. Again, as the Passion of our Lord was the last act of 
His life, so also it contains all that is highest and most com¬ 
plete in perfection; all our Lord’s examples of virtue, which 
were scattered over the whole of His life, shine forth still more 
highly in His Passion; all the instruction contained in His 
discourses, all his doctrine and all His most excellent counsels 


B 2 



4 


Prologue. 


are preached in His Passion. All the depth of suffering. that 
any one can undergo, all the extremities of misery to which 
any one may be brought in following justice, all are in the 
Passion; all deliverance from illusion and all learning of the 
truth are in the Passion; all knowledge, understanding, and 
heavenly wisdom are to be found in the Passion. The great 
Apostle of the Gentiles said that he knew nothing but Christ 
crucified, and, because of the greatness of the treasure herein 
hidden, we find that the saints occupied themselves ordinarily 
in the thought of it, as may be proved from their works and 
treatises. 

For this cause, therefore, and on account of the devotion 
that the whole Christian people in general feel towards the 
Passion of our Redeemer, I have thought well to choose this 
matter out of all other, and set it before those who meditate, 
giving them first some good instruction as to the manner to 
be followed in making meditation, though I leave the full dis¬ 
cussion of this for my larger treatise. 





Of the method which we should observe in meditating 
upon the Sacred Passion. 

He who intends to recollect himself for some considerable time 
of the day, ought never to let himself be altogether distracted. 
He who desires to enter into himself from time to time, must 
never altogether go out of himself; and he who desires to come 
back to his own thoughts from time to time, must never go far 
away from himself. He who desires to keep his imagination 
quiet, and fix his attention on heavenly things, must never 
altogether let his senses wander at random over the things of 
the earth. He must guard his heart and thoughts if he desires 
to find them when he wills, for true is the proverb that says, 
He that keeps, finds. He should persuade himself that the 
best disposition that he can get for meditating with profit, is to 
keep himself all day in peace and quietness of spirit, without 
allowing entrance to thoughts or passions which may disturb 
him. 

When the time for meditation has come, let him place 
himself reverently before our Lord, imagining, what is true, that 
He is there present, and let him begin his spiritual exercise by 
offering himself with entire resignation to the divine will, asking 
of our Lord light to know what is most pleasing to His divine 
majesty, and grace to accomplish the same, as well in thought 
as in word and action. After this, let him do briefly three 
things as preludes to his meditation. First, let him recall to his 
memory the history or the passage on which he is to meditate. 
Secondly, let him picture the history to himself as though 
it were passing there before him, giving its own fixed and 
appropriate place to everything that passes in it. For example, 


6 


Prologue. 


if he desire to meditate upon the Prayer in the Garden, let 
him imagine there before him a garden of a certain size and 
form, let him place therein at a certain spot the eight Apostles 
who remained somewhere near the entrance, then at another spot 
further on the three whom our Lord took aside with Him, and 
let him give His own proper place to our Blessed Saviour, Who 
withdrew from them as it were a stone’s throw,-to pray—so that 
the imagination may remain untroubled and quiet, having all 
around it and in their fixed places the objects on which it is to 
meditate. Thirdly, let him fix his eyes upon the fruit which he 
desires to draw from the meditation, such as fervour in prayer, 
patience in trouble, conformity to the divine will in adversity, 
or anything of the same sort in accordance with the subject, 
and let him beg of our Lord grace to meditate upon the 
passage, so as to gain from it the fruit at which he aims. 

Having done this, let him apply himself to meditate upon 
that passage or part of the history which he has chosen. And 
let him understand that what is termed prayer or meditation is 
not a thing above the skies, that he must take wings in order 
to attain to it, neither is it beyond the seas that he must take 
ship to reach it, but that it is a thing within ourselves, and that 
it is nothing else than the exercise of the three powers of the 
soul, and the making use of them as to spiritual matters in the 
same manner as we make use of them in human and temporal 
concerns. For just as when a man sets himself to reflect upon 
a business which concerns him greatly, he first brings before 
his memory that business and its circumstances, secondly, he 
discourses with his understanding, weighing the arguments and 
the force that each one of them has, and from this proceeds to 
a third thing, which is to make a resolution and to purpose 
with his will to take or not this or that step, to do this or not, 
and the like, and it is by this resolution that the execution 
and action which he takes is regulated—just the same course 
it is that is followed in prayer, though in a different subject- 
matter. The first thing is to present to the memory the point 
of the history on which we are to reflect. The second is to 
discourse with the understanding upon that point, weighing all 



Method of Meditation. 


7 


the circumstances contained in it, seeking out reasons, com¬ 
parisons, and arguments calculated to move the will to abhor 
such or such a vice, or embrace that virtue at which we may 
aim; and the third, which is the outcome, end, and fruit of 
the whole meditation, consists in the good resolutions made by 
the will, and which are afterwards to be carried into effect in a 
change of life and in the practice of virtuous actions. 

The same thing may well be explained by the example of 
the nourishment of the body. In this it is the hand that divides 
the food and conveys it to the mouth, then the morsel which 
enters the mouth entire is there broken up by the teeth and jaws, 
while the palate tastes and savours it ; thence it is carried into 
the stomach for digestion, and then the food, being digested 
and made into blood, is distributed over the whole body, and 
communicates itself to every part thereof, to give it life, increase, 
and vigour. And in this we may take much note of the faith¬ 
fulness with which one part of the body serves the rest, no one 
part ever refusing the work which belongs to it by reason of its 
office, nor exalting itself, nor retaining what does not belong 
to it, but giving it up to the part whose it is, in order to the 
end which nature has in view. For the hand which divides the 
food does not retain it for itself, but places it in the mouth. 
Nor does the mouth, which masticates it and breaks it up with 
its own labour, take upon itself to keep it there for its own taste, 
but faithfully passes it on to the stomach. Nor does the stomach, 
which spends its own heat and force in digesting the food, 
claim it as for itself, but distributes it over the whole body, that 
all the members may receive strength to perform their own 
offices. It seems as if we could not find any comparison more 
to our purpose for the explanation of the matter of which we 
are treating. For the food of the soul is the word of God and 
the eternal truths. These truths are divided into their parts and 
points, as it were into several morsels, and thus the memory 
proposes them to the understanding; the understanding breaks 
them up by means of its discourses, turns them over and over 
from one side to another with much taste and savour of spirit—for 
such usually follow upon the understanding of the truth. When 



8 


Prologue. 


these truths have been thus ruminated, the will burns and 
consumes them with the love of good and abhorrence of evil, 
and with good purposes and resolutions, and with the love of 
God, and in this consists the satisfaction and fulness of the spirit. 
And if this love of God be truly in the soul, all the virtues 
increase and are sustained by it, and from it proceeds the fruit of 
good works. For, as the Apostle says, charity is patient and kind, 
is humble and not ambitious, believes all tilings and hopes all 
things, is compassionate and merciful, and seeks not its own 
interest, and, in fact, is the queen and mother of all the virtues. 
In this way, then, the memory is as the hand which conveys 
the food to the mouth, the understanding is the mouth which 
masticates it and breaks it up, the wall is the stomach which 
receives it and consumes it by heat, and distributes it over all 
the actions and practices of virtue. If the memory were to 
content itself with the truth, without ruminating it, it w r ould be 
simply the reading of a spiritual book, dry and without taste or 
profit. And if all of the exercise were to close with the discourse 
of the understanding, it would be mere study and speculation, 
and would not have gone far enough to be prayer. Prayer differs 
in this respect from study, that it extends to the moving of the 
will and the formation of good desires and resolutions, and if 
these desires are not efficacious, and do not go on to execution, 
the whole exercise remains sterile and fruitless. So, then, 
meditation is the use and exercise of the three powders of the 
mind upon those eternal truths which appertain to the reforma¬ 
tion of fife and the salvation of the soul, in the manner wilich 
w r e have explained. Let us now see how r each one of these 
powers may be helped in the work of meditation. 





How the memory may be aided in the work of meditation- 

When we employ a servant to work in our house we take care 
that he have provided and at hand all the materials necessary 
for his work that he may not waste time in searching or waiting 
for them. In this work of meditation it is the duty of the 
memory to provide the materials, that is, to have ready at hand 
the points on which the understanding has to labour by its 
discourse, and from which the will has to form its good resolu¬ 
tions and affections. And for want of this provision people 
are wont to lose much of the time set apart for prayer, whilst 
they are seeking for matter on which to meditate and to which 
to occupy their attention with a fixed and determined subject. 
So that when the time of prayer comes the memory ought to 
be already provided with what is to be meditated on. 

The principal help towards the accomplishment of this is 
when the spiritual director of the exercises places before us in 
due course the points for meditation, accommodating himself 
in this to the capacity and disposition of him who makes the 
exercises, both as regards the matter for meditation and the 
manner of proposing it. But it is not always that this can be 
so ; most generally the book has to supply the want of the 
living voice of the teacher, that part of the history on which 
meditation is to be made being read over betimes; and if the 
meditation has to be made at midnight or in the morning, 
this piece of diligence must be practised before retiring to 
rest. Moreover, with regard to this point, our holy Father 
St. Ignatius recommends 1 that after retiring to rest and before 
going to sleep we should recall to mind the hour at which we 
1 Add. i, 2. 


IO 


Prologiie. 


are to rise and the exercise of meditation we are to make, and to 
do the same in the same way on awaking, thus to shut the door 
upon all other thoughts, and apply our attention to the subject 
of meditation. All these diligences are natural to a careful 
soul, and their object is that the memory shall be ready to 
supply matter to the understanding at the time of meditation, 
just as the master of a house who has guests to entertain, 
inquires very frequently if the dishes be prepared and ready, so 
that the guests may not be kept waiting after they have taken 
their places at the table. 

He who supplies another with matter for meditation ought 
to observe three things recommended by our glorious Father 
St. Ignatius; and as far as possible the book from which any 
one has to prepare matter for prayer ought to have the same 
qualities. The first is that the history shall be related with 
fidelity and truth. On this point, St. Ignatius lays stress in the 
second Annotation, where he says 2 —‘The person who gives 
the matter and order for meditation or contemplation to another, 
ought faithfully to narrate the history of such contemplation 
or meditation; discoursing only upon its several points with 
brevity and explaining them summarily, so that the person 
who is to make the meditation may take the true foundation 
of the history and may reflect and reason upon this himself,’ 
&c. So it is, that from falsehood no solid profit can be drawn, 
and no firm building can be raised thereon. Therefore, for 
instance, in the Passion of our Lord, what use is it to exagge¬ 
rate and enhance this or that particular, or imagine things 
which never took place, and all this for the sake of moving 
the people to tears and compassion, as if the truth of what 
was then done and what is related by the Evangelists did not 
afford infinite motives for tears and pity ? As to this, we may 
say with holy Job 3 — 1 Hath God any need of your lie that you 
should speak deceitfully for Him?’ For this reason we have 
taken care in this history of the Sacred Passion to keep as 
^closely as was possible to the text of the Gospels, and have noted 
at the foot of the page and with great minuteness the chapter 
2 Annot. 2. 3 Job xiii. 7. 






Aids to the memory. n 


and verse of the Evangelist whence are taken those particular 
actions or words which we meditate successively. And those 
who have the curiosity to refer to these passages of the Gospels 
will be surprised to see how the Evangelists note down things 
much more minute and particular than is generally remarked 
by those who read in haste and with less attention. 

The second thing to be observed is, that the truth of the 
history be proposed to him who meditates in such a manner 
as that a short explanation also be given him, so as to open a 
path in one direction or another, and giving him scope to make 
reflections for himself, and to draw from it the affections which 
God will help him to. For it is certain that what each person 
finds out himself, either by his own reflections or through light 
from God, will give him more pleasure and will lead him to 
more profit than anything that he may meet with through the 
help and labours of others. It may well be that the ideas that 
he finds written in books are more wise, more ingenious, and 
polished, but they will not on that account be more profitable 
to him. It may be that his own reflections are ruder, his com¬ 
parisons poorer, his reasons less subtle, and yet, with all this, 
it is very certain that by their means God will enlighten his 
understanding in the knowledge of His mysteries in a far higher 
degree, and will far more inflame his will with the love of eternal 
things, than in other ways. For this reason, the director who 
proposes the matter and arranges the points for meditation for 
another, ought to regulate himself in such a manner that, saying 
something which may make reflection easy, he shall not say all 
that might be said, but leave some difficulties to be overcome 
Ty the person who meditates, so that he may labour for him¬ 
self, and so his meditation be more fruitful and savoury. The 
words in which our Father St. Ignatius recommends this are as 
follows 4 —‘ For he who meditates, taking the true foundation of 
the history, reflecting and reasoning for himself, and discovering 
something thereby which may render the history more plain or 
better felt,whether by means of his own reasoning, or inasmuch 
as his understanding is illuminated by divine power: this causes 
4 Annot. 2. 



12 


Prologue. 


more pleasure and spiritual profit than if he who is giving the 
exercises had explained much and amplified the meaning of the 
history. For it is not knowing much which fills and satisfies 
the soul, but feeling and tasting spiritual things interiorly.’ 

Hence we see the difference between books written to serve 
no further end than that they simply be read, and those written 
with the intention of furnishing material for calm and quiet 
meditation. For there are some persons who cannot of them¬ 
selves apply their minds to meditation, either because their 
nature does not help them to it, or from their habits, or because 
they are disabled by the multitude of affairs which distract them. 
Devout and spiritual books are, therefore, of the greatest use to 
such persons—books which contain all that they desire, and 
where they find drawn out all the exercise of the three powers 
of the soul, that is to say, the history related for them, the 
reflections and considerations made, the affections moved, and 
the particular resolutions as to the practice of virtues formed. 
And this kind of reading gives sustenance and satisfaction to their 
spirit. There are other persons who have time to exercise them¬ 
selves by themselves in meditation, and such as these do not 
like to find everything provided for them in a book, and nothing 
left to search out for themselves. They do not like to have it 
all given them ready done, without leaving them anything to 
do, because when the spirit in time of recollection has nothing 
wherewith to occupy itself, it becomes remiss and careless, and 
is easily led away in useless and wandering speculations. This 
perhaps is the reason why, when people pray, our Lord does not 
grant without their asking, nor open without their knocking, nor 
let Himself be found unless He be sought. For this reason our 
Saviour said —\ Ask and it shall be given you, seek and ye shall 
find, knock and it shall be opened to you.’ All these things are 
images which suggest the fervour and earnestness which those 
who pray ought to have, and the great help to this which results 
from having something on which to labour, and some diffi¬ 
culties to overcome in prayer. 

Of these two kinds of persons which we have been speaking 
of, the first, w T ho do not apply themselves to meditation, and 



Aids to the memory . 


13 


wish to find everything written out for them in books, are like 
old and infirm persons who can only take sauces and essences 
and other liquid things, made into draughts, and, as it were, 
already digested. For such persons, the less trouble they have 
at the time of eating, so also the less taste and support do they 
gain from what they eat. But the others are like robust men, 
who, although they require that their food should be given them 
dressed and carved, do not, however, ask that it should be given 
to them already chewed, as is done with children. They do not 
ask to be excused from the trouble of crushing their food with 
their teeth and jaws, or of turning it over in their mouths with 
the tongue, because from this labour results the pleasant taste 
and relish of what they eat, and that the heat of the stomach 
consumes it more perfectly, and that it gives more solid suste¬ 
nance, force, and vigour to the whole body. So for those who 
are so weak in spirit as not to be able to apply their powers to 
the consideration and love of heavenly things, it is very useful 
and necessary that they should derive help from such books, 
in order that, reading them with moderate attention, they may 
have their understandings instructed and their will moved to 
some extent. But for those who are strong enough to exercise 
themselves without help in meditation, they should not take 
from books more than is necessary to fix their attention and 
arouse their powers of discourse, and then let them work with 
their own thoughts, and take pains to move their will with 
exclamations and colloquies, not of words well put together and 
studied, but of such as their own affection and fervour may 
dictate. For from this exercise it is that consolation and spiri¬ 
tual delight result, as well as those firm resolutions which are 
the parents of solid and perfect virtue. 

Now, with regard to this history of the Sacred Passion, it has 
indeed been written with the desire that it should be of general 
use, but it is more particularly meant for those who engage 
in meditation and prayer. So we have taken pains to adapt our 
work as much as possible to those rules of our holy Father, and 
we have paid especial attention to three things. First, to set 
forth faithfully the history and its circumstances, which have 



14 


Prologue. 


been taken for the most part from the passages in the Gospels 
cited at the foot of the page, and we have tried to do this in 
an historical manner, always following without any curtailment 
the thread of the narrative. For in this manner the reading of 
our work may be of pleasure and profit even to those who have 
no other aim than that of simply reading it; and, at the same 
time, those who exercise themselves in meditation upon the 
foundation of the true history—with which the memory ought 
to be furnished—may be able to found upon it the discourse 
of the understanding. Secondly, in the course of the history 
many considerations are given for the purpose of opening a 
way for the reflections of the understanding, but not so as to 
say formally, ‘On this point we must consider first this, secondly 
that,’ nor even expressly to state, 4 This is the first point, this is 
the second point,’ and so on. For, although this method be 
very good, and gives the matter for meditation in a more 
digested form, yet there are two difficulties which prevent it 
giving us full satisfaction. The first is that it cuts short the 
thread of the history, and tends in great measure to take away 
our pleasure in it and our thorough intelligence of it; the second, 
that it gives the consideration in so complete a state that there 
is nothing left for the person who meditates to do or to w r ork 
upon, and this, as we have said, takes away from the meditation 
a great portion of its pleasure and profit. For this reason,, 
although there are many considerations in this history with 
which the understanding may feed and entertain itself, still they 
are all worked up into the story, so as not to be at all distasteful 
to those who have no other object than reading, and yet give- 
well prepared matter for those who wish to make meditation to 
exercise themselves upon. 

Thirdly, in order to aid the will, we have taken pains that the 
whole of the history should be, as it w T ere, pregnant with good 
affections and resolutions, of solid and perfect virtues, which 
are those practised by our Saviour in His Passion, and this has 
been done by considering those virtues in particular and pointing 
out as with a finger His silence, His patience, His gentleness, 
His contempt of honour, His firmness and constancy, His love 



Aids to the memory. 


15 


of truth, His obedience and conformity to the divine will, 
together with the circumstances, occasions and manner in which 
He practised those virtues, from the contemplation of which 
springs the desire to imitate Him in them. In the same manner 
we have dwelt, in their proper place, on the sublime ends which 
the Divine Providence had in view, and the extreme fitness of 
the means which were used, in the Passion, from which arises> 
the affection of admiration; and, again, the immense weight of 
His sufferings, the excess of His grief, the rudeness and cruelty 
of His enemies, from which arises compassion ; and, again, the 
great love with which our Lord suffered, whence arises the 
return of love; the greatness of the evils from which He deli¬ 
vered us by His Passion, whence gratitude will spring—and so 
on with regard to other like affections, so that all profitable 
affections and all virtuous purposes are contained, as in their 
seed, in this history of the Sacred Passion. And although this 
is so, yet sometimes, though not often, we have introduced 
ejaculations or colloquies, as also the resolutions to practise 
virtue, in express and plain words, because these things are 
sweeter and more profitable to each one when they are the 
fruits of his own considerations and of the grace of God, which 
communicates itself secretly to each one as he requires. And 
for this reason, it is enough to place in the history the seed of 
these affections and resolutions, that that seed may be hidden 
in his heart by each one who meditates, that he may consume 
it by the secret heat of his own thoughts, and so by the influence 
of divine grace the flowers of good affections and desires may 
burst forth, and be followed by the fruits of those perfect virtues 
which are desired. 

All this has been said in order to explain the second thing 
which our glorious Father St. Ignatius has taught us as to the 
manner of proposing the matter for meditation—that is to say,, 
that a short explanation of the history should be given to arouse 
the consideration, yet so that something be left to the persons 
who makes the meditation to work out for himself by his own 
reflections. For as when we want to fix a nail in a tree, we open, 
a hole for it first with an auger of size proportionate to the bulk 



Prologue. 


16 


of the nail, and then leave the nail to work its way further for 
itself under the blows which we give it—because without the 
help of the auger it will not enter, and yet if we make the hole 
larger, so that it enters at once and with room to spare, it will 
not take hold or stand fast—so is that which happens to those 
who make meditation. It is necessary to give them some expla¬ 
nation or consideration in proportion to their capacity or intelli¬ 
gence, by which they may set off and guide their thoughts, and 
then to leave them to go on with their own exertions and labour. 
For if nothing is said to them they do nothing and find nothing 
to think of, and so either go off on temporal business and 
useless wanderings of mind, or give themselves to dry and dull 
considerations from which can result nothing but weariness and 
dizziness of head. And on the other hand, if, to avoid these 
inconveniences, we give them the considerations ready made 
and the affections and resolutions expressed and reduced to 
practice, they do not take hold of and insist upon these con¬ 
siderations and affections which have been made to others as 
they would if they were their own. 

The third thing which our Holy Father advises is that 
before entering upon meditation we should have the history 
divided into a certain and definite number of points. For 
although it be true that with some persons, either because 
they have greater light from Heaven, or because they are more 
> quick and ready at discourse, every word is a point for them, 
yet in the case of others, because they have neither of these 
-advantages, a whole history is hardly sufficient. And thus what 
in the case of some occupies them for meditation during a 
week or a month, is scarcely sufficient for others for a hour. 
Yet whichever be the case, it is, nevertheless, advisable that 
every one should be provided with the points on which he is 
to meditate, divided into a certain number. The words of 
St. Ignatius (in the third note after the Fourth Week) in which he 
speaks on this subject, are the following—‘The third is, that 
although in all contemplations a certain number of points be 
given, as for example, three or five, yet he who meditates may 
make more or fewer as he shall find best. And for this it is 



Aids to the memory. 


1 7 


of great use, before entering upon contemplation, to make a 
conjecture and settle definitely in a certain number the points 
which he ought to take.’ The reason of this is clear, because if we 
take the history thus ready divided into different points we are 
in possession of something definite to which to apply our 
attention when we meditate, and something certain to return to 
when our thoughts are distracted; and when we find nothing 
more to consider on one point, there still remain a second 
and a third with which to occupy the appointed time. And 
having thought in this manner upon all and on each point 
separately, we shall have left nothing in that history whence 
we might derive some profit which we have not pondered and 
dwelt upon, and over which our understanding has not passed. 
But all these benefits would be lost, if we were to take the 
whole history at once, which would be like swallowing all our 
food at once without dividing it into mouthfuls so as to masti¬ 
cate them, and taste their savour, and swallow them one after 
another during the course of our meal. 

We have, moreover, taken care to help the memory in this 
respect, for although we have not said expressly, this is the first 
point, this is the second, and so on, in order not to cut short, 
as we have more than once said, the thread of the narrative, yet 
we have made it a rule to have this history divided into many 
paragraphs, which may serve as marks for those who meditate 
to divide their meditation and make these points accordingly. 


c 



How the understanding may be aided in meditating upon 
• the Sacred Passion. 

The memory being ready and provided with matter to set 
forth for meditation, the next thing is for the understanding 
to hold discourse upon it. To this end it may be helped 
principally by two things. The first is, to consider in each 
history the circumstances to be found therein. The second is, 
in each of these circumstances which are considered, to search 
for reasons, comparisons, and arguments to move the will to 
the affection and resolution which we may desire. 

The circumstances which may be considered and pondered 
in any portion whatever of the history of the Sacred Passion, may 
be reduced to six, which are laid down by our glorious Father 
St. Ignatius in the first meditation of the Third Week. For the 
six points which he there marks out are not so much particular 
points for that exercise (which is upon the Last Supper), as 
general circumstances which ought to be considered in the 
whole history of the Passion, and which ought to be applied 
and adapted to all the other meditations, as our holy Father 
remarks and as we shall prove more at length elsewhere. 

The first is of the persons who are introduced into the 
passage, that is to say, who they are; their dignity or un¬ 
worthiness * their merits or demerits; the habit, bearing, and 
disposition of each; their meekness and modesty, or their inso¬ 
lence and cruelty, and other things of the same sort. And to 
this it is that that last consideration, so necessary in this matter, 
comes, that is to say, Who the Person is Who suffers and who 
they are through whom and for whom He suffers. 


19 


Aids to the vender standing. 


The second point is to consider the words which are spoken, 
that is to say, the calumnies, accusations, false testimonies, 
insults, and blasphemies, and also the answers of Christ our 
Blessed Lord, so full of wisdom and humility, gentleness and 
firmness, modesty and majesty. And above all, we ought to 
consider the silence of our Saviour, which was so great and so 
remarkable, for such an occasion, that even the judge, who was 
a Gentile, marvelled at it greatly. 

The third circumstance is the deeds which were done; that 
is to say, on the one side, the torments which were inflicted, 
their manner and their gravity; and on the other side, the 
patience and gentleness and the other virtues which shone 
forth so brightly in our Saviour. 

The fourth is to pass on into the Heart of Christ our Lord, 
and to consider His sadness and anguish and the causes and 
motives of them, and still more His desire and hunger after 
suffering, His thirst for the salvation of souls, and the burning 
love and charity towards God and man with which He suffered, 
and the other affections and desires of His most Sacred Heart. 

The fifth point is to ascend still higher, to the consideration 
of His Divinity, and to observe how His Godhead concealed 
and dissembled Itself whilst suffering those insults, not hinder¬ 
ing the sadness and torment of His most holy Humanity, not 
chastising His tormentors, but, on the contrary, sustaining them 
and giving them existence and movement and the like. Also, 
how His Divinity gave infinite value to the sufferings of Christ; 
again, how He was occupied in reconciling all the world to 
His Father, to Himself, and to the Holy Spirit, as the Apostle 
says. 1 ‘ For God indeed was in Christ reconciling the world 
to Himself ’—Quonicun quidem Dens erat in Christo mundum 
reconcilians sibi. 

The sixth point is to observe for whom He suffered these 
afflictions, that is to say, for me and for my sins, and to consider 
what it is reasonable that I should do and suffer in return and 
in gratitude for so great a benefit. It will, moreover, be a great 
help to look upon these mysteries as though they had been 
1 2 Cor. v. 19. 


c 2 



20 


Prologue. 


done for my sake alone. For I was as much present to the 
eyes of Christ our Lord when He suffered as though I had 
been alone and no one else in the world; and I may take as 
large a share of those merits and may profit by them a$ largely 
as if I had been the only one to reap their benefits. For each 
one does not the less enjoy the light of the sun because there 
are many others upon whom its rays fall, nor should one enjoy 
them more if he were alone and if there were no other person 
in the world. And lastly, the charity of Christ our Saviour was 
so great, that if necessary He would have suffered for one alone 
that which He suffered for the whole world. For all these 
reasons, I ought to take upon myself the whole weight of this 
benefit and hold myself obliged to give thanks for it and profit 
by it as though I were alone to do so. In this manner, it 
would seem, the Apostle Paul meditated upon the Passion, 
when he said, 2 Qui dilexit me et tradidit semetipsum pro vie— 
‘Who loved me and delivered Himself for me.’ 

These, then, are the circumstances by which the under¬ 
standing must help itself, in order to feed and expand its 
consideration, whilst meditating upon the Sacred Passion. It is 
not, however, necessary to meditate on all of them upon every 
point, nor in the order in which they are here placed. All or 
some of them may be considered, and in the order which may 
be most convenient, without doing violence to the history or 
losing the relish which it generally brings with it; and for this 
purpose it is best to allow ourselves to be carried along the 
stream of the history, considering and weighing whatever 
circumstances may be most appropriate to it. 







The Affections which may be drawn from meditation on 
the Passion for the purpose of aiding the will. 

In order to aid the will (which is the power towards which the 
whole of the meditation is directed) we ought to take note of 
the good and profitable affections which may be deduced from 
the consideration of the Passion, and to which our holy Father 
adverts in the third prelude of the Third Week, where he 
thus speaks—‘The third point is to ask what I desire; and 
here it will be grief, affliction, and confusion, because, on 
account of my sins, our Lord goes to His Passion.’ And on 
the fourth point he says—‘The fourth is to consider what 
Christ our Lord suffers, or desires to suffer, in His Humanity, 
in accordance with that passage of the Passion which is under 
contemplation; and here to begin with great efforts and endea¬ 
vours to rouse myself to sorrow and weeping, and in like manner 
to make effort as to the points which follow.’ And on the sixth 
point he says—‘The sixth is to consider how He suffered all 
these things for my sins, and what I ought to do and suffer for 
Him.’ All these are the words of our holy Father, and in order 
to explain more fully this doctrine of his, and that he who prays 
may know what he ought to desire and aim at, and whither to 
direct his meditation, we may distinguish the following affections. 

The first is of compassion; a feeling due in the highest 
degree to any one who suffers on our account. And it is much 
to be considered that as our Lord God chose to honour the 
death of His Son with the tears and lamentations of those 
women and holy matrons who accompanied and followed Him, 
so He has in like manner always maintained, and always main¬ 
tains in His Church, even to this day, this spirit in certain 


Prologue. 


devout souls, who afflict themselves and bewail the Passion of 
the Lord as though they were present at it And this the 
Prophet Zacharias seems to prophesy when he says, Aspicient 
ad me quern confixerunt , et plangent eum planctu quasi super 
unigenitum: et dolebunt super eum , ut doleri sold in morteprimo- 
geniti: in die ilia magnus erit planctus in Jerusalem —‘They 
shall look upon Me Whom they have pierced; and they shall 
mourn for Him as one moumeth for an only son, and they 
shall grieve over Him as the manner is to grieve over the death 
of the firstborn. In that day there shall be a great lamentation 
in Jerusalem .’ 1 

The second affection is abhorrence of sin, which was the 
principal cause which brought our Lord to death, and which 
made Him, the most beautiful among men, like unto a leper. 
‘His look,’ says Isaias, ‘was as it were hidden and despised, 
whereupon we esteemed Him not Surely He hath borne our 
infirmities and carried our sorrows; and we have thought Him 
as it were a leper and as one struck by God and afflicted. But 
He was wounded for our iniquities; He was bruised for our 
sins’— Quasi absconditus vultus e/us et despectus, unde nec reputa- 
vimus aim. Vere languores nostros ipse tulit , d dolores nostros 
ipse portavit: et nos putavimus eum quasi leprosum et percussum 
a Deo et humiliatum: ipse autem vulneratus est propter iniquitates 
nostras , attritus est propter scetera nostra? 

The third is fear of the divine justice; this fruit our Saviour 
Himself taught us to draw when, speaking to the women who 
followed Him, He said, Filice Jerusalem , nolite flcre super me; 
super vos ipsas flde d super filios vestros. . . . Quia si in viridi 
ligno hcec faciunt , in arido quid fid ? —‘ Daughters of Jerusalem, 
weep not over Me, but weep for yourselves and your children. 

. . . For if in the green wood they do these things, what shall 
be done in the dry ? ’ 3 

The fourth is admiration of the wisdom and goodness of 
God, Who discovered and put into execution so suitable a 
means for His glory, for the satisfaction of His justice, for the 
demonstration of His mercy, for the healing of the world, and 
1 Zach. xii. io. 2 Isaias liii. 4. 3 St. Luke xxiii. 28. 




Aids to the will. 


23 


for the destruction of sin and of hell. All this was signified by 
our Saviour in these words, ‘ Ought not Christ to have suffered 
these things ?’ 4 and in another place, ‘Thus it is written, and 
thus it behoved Christ to suffer .’ 5 

The fifth is hope, that He Who gave to us that which is 
greatest, will not deny us that which is less. This sentiment is 
found frequently in St. Paul, who teaches us to draw this fruit out 
of the Sacred Passion, founding the argument as well on God, 
Who bestows on us this blessing, as on ourselves, who are the 
recipients of it. Of the first he says, Qui etiam proprio Filio suo 
non pepercit , sed pro nobis omnibus tradidit ilium, quomodo non 
etiam cum illo omnia nobis donavit — 4 He that spared not even 
His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how hath He 
not also with Him given us all things ?” 6 Of the second he 
says, Si enim, cum inimici ess emus, reconciliavit nos Feus per 
mortem Filii ejus, multo magis recoJiciliati salvi erimus in vita 
ipsius- — 1 If when we were enemies we were reconciled to God 
by the death of His Son, much more, being reconciled, shall 
we be saved by His life .” 7 If, he says, the death of the Son of 
God had such power as to reconcile us to the Father when we 
were His enemies, much more shall we be saved by the virtue 
of this same Saviour, now living and arisen, since we are already 
friends, and reconciled to God. Which is as if he said, arguing 
from a neat parallelism, if His death revived us when we were 
dead, much more shall His life save us now that we are alive. 
And to these two heads may be reduced the motives of hope 
which we may derive from the Sacred Passion. 

The sixth affection is love towards Him Who has so loved 
us, and has bestowed such a benefit upon us. For in this 
precisely God enhanced His charity towards us, that being as 
we were sinners, Christ our Lord gave His life for us, Com- 
mendat autem charitatem suam Feus in nobis, quoniam cum 
■adhuc peccatores ess emits, Christus pro nobis mortuus est . 8 

The seventh is the imitation of the virtues which shone 
most brightly in the Passion of our Saviour, and this is the 

4 St. Luke xxiv. 26. 5 Ibid. 

6 Rom. viii. 32. 7 Ibid. v. 10. 


8 Ibid. 8. 




Prologue . 

c> 


principal fruit of this exercise. Of it the Apostle Peter thus 
speaks, Christus passu s est pro nobis , relmquens exemplum ut 
sequamini vestigia ejus —‘Christ also suffered for us, leaving you 
an example that you should follow His steps, Who when He 
was reviled did not revile; when He suffered He threatened 
not .’ 9 

The eighth affection is to arm and protect ourselves against 
all temptation. For what else can so animate us to fight or aid 
us to conquer, what can so weaken our enemies and put them 
to flight, as the memory of the Passion ? This point is referred 
to by St. Peter when he says, ‘ Christ, therefore, having suffered 
in the flesh, be ye also armed with the same thought’— Christo 
igitur passo in came et vos eadejn cogitatione armaminiP 

The ninth fruit is zeal for souls, for no one who considers 
how God loved and esteemed souls, and what a price it has 
cost Him to redeem them, can ever cease to esteem and love 
them, and put himself to any labour whatsoever for them. 
It was this consideration of which the Apostle Paul made 
use, when terrifying those who scandalized their neighbours. 
‘Through you,’ he says, ‘shall the weak brother perish for 
whom Christ died ? ’ — Et peribit infirmus in tua scientia 
prater , propter qnem Christus mortuus est ? 11 With this he 
animated himself to labour and suffer for the conversion of 
souls, seeing that he was carrying on what Christ had suffered 
for them, and supplied that which He could not now suffer 
because of His state of glory, and what He would suffer out of 
His immense charity if He were not in that state. Et adimpleo 
ea quce desunt passion um Christi , in carne mea , pro corpore ejus 
quod est Ecclesia —‘Who now rejoice in my sufferings for you, 
and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of 
Christ in my flesh for His body, which is the Church .’ 12 And it 
is the same with all the preachers and ministers of the Gospel 
until the end of the world. 

The tenth fruit which may be drawn from meditation on 
the Passion is the offering and dedicating of ourselves wholly 

9 I St. Peter ii. 21. 10 Ibid. iv. 1. 11 1 Cor. viii. II. 

12 Colos. i. 24. 





Aids to the will. 


25 


to the service and will of Jesus Christ, with the deepest grati¬ 
tude for so inestimable a benefit, even as slaves who have been 
brought at a great price. Nemo enim nostrum sibi vivit , et nemo 
sibi moritur. Siveenim vivimus , Domino vivimus; sive morimur, 
Domino morimur. Sive ej'go vivimus , sive morimur , Domini 
sumus. In hoc enim Christus mortuus est , et resurrexit , ut et 
mortuorum et vivorum dommetur —‘For none of us liveth to 
himself/ saith the Apostle, ‘no man dieth to himself. For 
whether we live, we live unto the Lord, or whether we die, 
we die unto the Lord. Therefore, whether we live or whether 
we die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ died 
and rose again, that He might be Lord both of the dead 
and of the living .’ 13 And in another place he says, Et pro 
omnibus mortuus est Christus , ut et qui vivunt jam non sibi 
vivant , sed ei qui pro ipsis mortuus est et resurrexit —‘And 
Christ died for all; that they also who live, may not now live 
to themselves, but unto Him Who died for them and rose 
again .’ 14 Many other good affections may be drawn from medi¬ 
tations on the Passion of the Lord, but it is enough for our 
purpose to have touched on those mentioned above. 


13 Rom. xiv. 7. 


14 2 Cor. v. 15. 



Of the Colloquy. 

At the end of the meditation a colloquy ought to be made, 
speaking to Christ our Lord as though we had Him present to 
us in that same mystery on which we have been meditating, 
compassionating His sufferings, rightly esteeming His infinite 
charity, thanking Him for so great a benefit, representing to 
Him our necessities, begging of Him a remedy, accusing our¬ 
selves of having been, through our sins, the cause of His most 
bitter Passion, offering ourselves to do and suffer many things 
for our Lord, and finally praying for all those persons and all 
those affairs which have been commended to us. 

From all this it follows how great is the field opened out to 
us in the meditation of the Sacred Passion. For the whole of 
the history may be divided into many parts, and each part into 
many points, and in each point many different circumstances 
may be considered, and from the consideration of each one may 
be excited different affections, and on each of these affections 
various colloquies may be made. And in this manner he who 
prays may give himself great scope, and occupy himself over 
and over again for much time in dwelling upon one single point 
or passage of the Passion. This is what we have thought fit 
to say briefly at present, to give some instruction and some 
form of meditation to those who desire to occupy themselves 
profitably in this exercise, putting off the rest to be treated 
more at large and of set purpose in its proper place. We will 
now proceed to the main object of this treatise, which is that 
of writing the history of the Sacred Passion. 



NOTE TO THE INTRODUCTION. 


Father Jerome Nadal’s Prelude to the Meditation on the Passion 
of Christ. 

[The following Prelude , from the pen of Father Jerome Nadal, 
one of the most famous early Fathers of the Society, is taken 
from Father Ciccolini’s work on the Exercises , p. 693.] 

As we have now come to the time when Christ begins to suffer 
and. to pour out His Blood for the redemption of all of us mortals, 
it will not be amiss here to note in brief the things which may be 
of some use for these meditations, and may also be adapted to the 
other mysteries of our Lord. Who, then, is it that suffers ? Who 
is it that is crucified? Who is it that dies? It is the Son of the 
Almighty God, Himself Almighty God, impassible, immortal, con- 
substantial with the Father—He it is Who suffers, Who in His 
Humanity is crucified, Who dies. Does, then, the Godhead suffer ? 
or is it God in Himself that is crucified, or dies? None of these. 
Neither does the Godhead suffer, nor does God suffer in Himself, 
but the Word of God, on account of the personal union by which 
He is united to this individual humanity, receives and has applied to 
Himself these terms which express suffering. For as the Son of God 
was truly made man, and as the result of this union is that He was 
truly man in the unity of His Divine Person, so also does it result 
that He as man truly suffered, was crucified, and died—suffering 
nothing in His Divinity, nothing in the Word, but in the humanity 
and flesh which He had taken upon Himself. 

When, then, the Man Jesus Christ was suffering, was He as He 
now is, the Creator and Lord of heaven and earth, of angels and 
men ? Most certainly He was, as He now is. He was the bright¬ 
ness of the glory and the image.of the substance of His Father, 
He was bearing all things by the word of His Power, He was the 
infinite Light, immense Power, in Him existed, in Him moved 
and lived, all things that moved and lived, He was the Beatitude 
and Glory of the Angels, He was filling heaven and earth, He 


28 


Prelude to the Passion. 


was governing them all. But what was He according to His 
Humanity? The humanity of Jesus Christ was a true humanity, 
composed of a rational soul and a body, both most perfect. It was 
the most excellent humanity of all that ever have been, or are, or 
shall be. It was united to the Word of God by hypostatic union, in 
the Person of the Son of God—not in its own. That human nature 
therefore subsisted in the Word, and hence the Man Jesus Christ 
was most truly God, the Son of God, the Word of the Eternal 
Father. And now, what most excellent grace was there and is there 
in Christ? The grace which we call the grace of Union, by which 
the Word of God was made man, and by which the Word sustains 
in the unity of His own Divine Person that human nature of Christ. 

What is there for us to contemplate in His soul ? The highest 
glory of Paradise, and also the highest grace. Christ, therefore, was 
in glory, and in all the delights of the heavenly Paradise while He 
was suffering. But by a miracle of God it was the case that that 
glory of Paradise did not overflow unto His body—nor upon His 
soul, so far as it was the form of the body, and so far as it operated 
by the forces of the body, and as to its lower part—and this was 
done in order that God might be able to suffer according to His 
Humanity. For unless God had restrained the glory of the soul of 
Christ, that glory would have made His body most glorious also, 
and would have made His soul blessed and happy in every part and 
respect, nor would the whole creation have been able to hurt that 
blessed humanity even in the least degree. Oh, how wonderful 
and admirable are the mysteries of our God ! Oh, what condescen¬ 
sion, worthy of the praises of all Angels and men ! Moreover, the 
effect of the grace of Jesus Christ was this, that not only was He 
Himself acceptable beyond all expression to God the Father, and 
all His actions and works most pleasing to Him, but also that 
through Him and through all His actions and works grace was 
distributed to all men, that all His virtues and all His gifts were 
communicated to all, and that, to crown all this, all who should 
receive His teaching and obey Him should obtain .eternal glory 
through Him—for He was made to all that obey Him the cause of 
eternal salvation. For Christ Us filled all in all,’ 1 that is, He is 
all in His members, though not all in each, lest there should be no 
diversity of merit in them. And so, since for Himself Christ merited 
nothing, neither grace, nor glory, nor virtues, nor gifts—(for all these 
He received by the free bounty of God though the hypostatic union) 
—but only the glorification of His body, the exaltation of His name, 
1 Eph. i. 23. 







By Fr. Jerome Nadal. 


29 


His resurrection from the dead, and the like: yet for us He merited 
both those and these most abundantly and most efficaciously. But 
see how copious was the redemption of Jesus Christ! From the very 
first moment of His conception in the womb of the Blessed Virgin 
Mary, He merited all things both for Himself and for us by the 
application of His future Passion and death, and of all the works 
of His life, to the greater glory of God the Father, and He consum¬ 
mated that application by the whole of His life, and by His Passion 
and death. Again, Christ habitually saw in the Divine Word and 
in the Divine Essence all things that were possible to Himself 
and to His Father. The soul of Christ saw, by means of created 
images, all things that were then, all things that had been, all things 
that were to be. He knew also who would believe and express 
their faith by good works, who were to fall away from the faith, 
who would persevere in grace, who would not, and who would 
be saved, and who would be damned. He offered His life, His 
Passion, and His death, sufficiently for all, and efficaciously for 
those alone who were the predestinated. For though He had paid 
the price for all, yet these last, above the rest, He held dear to 
Himself from all eternity and to all eternity. Besides this, Christ 
was far above all others most wonderfully adorned, beyond all the 
understanding of men or Angels, with the highest excellence of 
every virtue, and this was the work of His Divine Person, of the 
hypostatic union, and of His most perfect grace and glory. From 
this again it resulted that He had neither faith nor hope, for the 
place of faith in Him had been taken from the first moment of His 
conception by a most surpassing sight of God and of all those things 
which are contained in faith. And hope had been also shut out from 
Him by an actual most beatific fruition of God—although there were 
some things which, 1 on account of the dispensation of theTncarna- 
tion, Christ looked for and did not yet possess. And you must 
contemplate in Christ as He suffers, not only these things which I 
have named, but also the immense charity, fortitude, magnanimity, 
patience, humility, wisdom, and all His other consummate and 
most excellent virtues. And though all these things were so, and 
the Man Jesus Christ was in every respect most perfect, yet still 
He had advanced in wisdom, and in age and in grace with God 
and man. 2 He learned obedience from those things which He 
suffered. 3 Certainly Jesus Christ advanced in age, and also in the 
practice and use of the virtues and gifts which He had received. 
He used His natural gifts, His intellect acted, His natural powers, 
2 St. Luke ii. 52. 3 Heb. v. 8. 



30 


Prelude to the Passion. 


and His will : He put in practice all the acts which could and 
ought to proceed from the faculties of nature, or from His super¬ 
natural gifts, according to the mission and command which He had 
received from His Father. So He is said truly to have advanced, 
not only before men, who saw Him day after day undertake greater 
and nobler works, but also before God. For those actions of Christ 
were a real advance before God, without which actions the end of 
the redemption of man would not have been reached; and although 
there was no increase of virtue and of merit in Christ by His 
meriting anything new, yet still that same redemption and that 
merit in Christ became more copious and more completely perfect. 
Is there anything else that may be of profit for the meditation on 
the Passion and death of Christ? Yes, if we consider not only 
those perfections of His which we have now glanced at, but also 
the natural perfections of His Humanity, that is, the excellences of 
His soul, and of His body, and all His powers, and all His senses, 
interior and exterior alike. Although the perfection which He had 
in Him was contained in the limits of humanity, yet it was very far 
higher than that of all other men beside Him, for these things 
belonged to that humanity which was hypostatically united to the 
Word of God, and they were also the organs of His Divinity. 

From all that we have said hitherto it resulted that the Passion 
and death of Christ reached the utmost of indignity and pain, and on 
that account were most efficacious—far above anything that we can 
reach in thought or in word. But what did Christ suffer ? and from 
whom ? when, and on account of whom ? What is the fruit of the 
Passion and death ? What Christ suffered were the most bitter 
pains, both interior pains of the soul and exterior pains of the body. 
These interior pains of the soul He suffered from the very time of 
His conception, for He grieved vehemently and continually for all 
the offences and sins which had ever offended God, were then 
offending Him, or were thereafter to offend Him. For if it were 
true what St. Paul said of himself—‘ Who is weak and I am not 
weak, who is scandalized and I am not on fire?’ 4 what may we not 
and ought we not to believe of Jesus Christ ? The external pains 
of the body He began to bear, not only from the time of the 
Circumcision, but from that of His Birth, in tears, and cold, and 
want. Add to this His flight into Egypt, the abjection and humble 
state of His life before He began to preach the Gospel; add all the 
ignominies, reproaches, contumelies, He underwent. Thrice the 
devil took Him up high in the air; three times he tempted Him. 

4 2 Cor. xi. 29. 





By Fr. Jerome Nadal. 


3i 


How often did not the Jews wish to stone Him ? how often to lay 
hands on Him ? Once even His own fellowtownsmen thrust Him 
forth, that they might cast Him headlong from their mountain. 
Consider how often He suffered cold, or heat, or hunger; how often 
He wept, how often He was destitute, and no one deigned to receive 
Him hospitably—Him Who moreover had not where to lay His 
head. Lastly, who can count up the multitude of pains which He 
suffered in the whole course of His Passion and death? Who can 
explain how bitter they were ? Who can tell the infamy, the 
'ignominy, the insult, the indignity of His death? But we shall 
have to speak of these things more particularly in their proper 
place ; now let us pass lightly over the rest. 

By whom was the Passion and death of Jesus Christ inflicted ? 
If nothing else, it was inflicted by men whom He Who suffered it 
had created; whom He was continually sustaining in their sub¬ 
stance, movements, life, and all other good things; for whom He 
became man and mortal, and for whom He was suffering; whom 
He was embracing with immense charity; for whom He was 
purchasing everlasting life by His own most bitter death. All 
these things gave it the greatest indignity and sorrowfulness. But 
add to this, that it was at the hands of His own people that He 
suffered this most shameful death—men on whom He had conferred 
so many benefits, countless numbers of whom He had healed from 
sickness, raised from the dead, and communicated to them most 
graciously His Heavenly doctrine. Those who laid hands on 
Him were the most abandoned ruffians, Gentiles and Jews, the 
offscouring of men. He was betrayed to death by a disciple ; He 
was condemned by the envy and malice of the chief rulers; He was 
put to death on account of the ambition of the Governor. 

But where did He suffer, where was He crucified ? In the most 
famous city of the whole East (though outside the gate), the city 
which had been chosen of all others both by Him and by His 
Father, which they had adorned with endless benefits, where God 
had chosen that His Temple should be, and that there should be 
none anywhere else, in the one spot among men where He had 
planted His own religion and worship. He suffered in a place of 
that most famous city which was itself infamous and polluted, 
where, that is, criminals were put to an ignominious death, on the 
mount of Golgotha, that is Calvary, a place full of the bones and 
skulls of the condemned and of all uncleanness, even though that 
which is said be perhaps true, and to be set down to a mystery, that 
the first of men, the great Adam, had there been buried. Consider 



32 


Prelude to the Passion. 


how in this place Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was made a most 
unworthy spectacle, to Angels—who had there assembled in great 
numbers or who were gazing from heaven upon their dying King—a 
spectacle of great delight to Lucifer, the prince of devils, and to the 
crowd of evil spirits, as many as God permitted to be there present 
—and to men a cruel sight indeed, on the one hand, to the few good, 
and on the other, a wished for sight to the multitude, the dregs of 
humanity, Jews and Gentiles. Open here awhile the eyes of your 
mind and mark the dispositions of each and their various feelings. 

For whom did God die? For His enemies—that is to say, for all 
men, for those who were making Him undergo numberless pains, 
immense reproaches and, after all, the most bitter death. For all 
men were enemies to God the Father and to His Christ, for none 
of them did what was good, no one could of himself. For all Christ 
died, even for those who had not sinned after the likeness of Adam’s 
transgression, that is, even if they had added no actual sin of their 
own, and had only contracted original sin. Again, He suffered 
for those who having been delivered through the blood of Christ from 
the stain of original sin, had yet committed so many sins and crimes 
against God, were then committing such or were to commit such. 
And all these things enhanced indeed the ineffable charity of God and 
of Jesus Christ towards men, but they did not hinder the indignity 
and cruelty of the Passion from being greater, nor the ingratitude 
and injustice of those who slew Him from being more heinous. 

And after all, what was the fruit of this so disgraceful and so 
bitter death ? Great indeed was the fruit, great, and in every 
way most abundant. By the death of Christ the losses of the 
Angels are repaired, Paradise is replenished, and the appointed 
number of those who are predestinated by God is filled up. These 
things are most true. But another thing also is undoubted—that 
far larger is the number of men for whom Christ died who yet have 
received no advantage from His death, on account of their own 
fault; men who have trodden under foot Jesus the Son of God and 
have esteemed the blood of His testament unclean 5 and have offered 
affront to the Spirit of grace. How many men perished before 
Christ came ! And yet for them Christ died. How many while He 
was alive ! Christ died for them. Hence again an increase of 
indignity in His Passion and death, hence also was the grief of 
Christ increased and made more vehement. For He saw num¬ 
berless men who had received and were to receive no profit from 
His death, and so, in the case of many of them, even greater 
5 Heb. x. 29. 



By Fr. Jerome Nadcil. 


33 


condemnation. And of those, too, to whom His death was to bring 
or had brought benefit and eternal salvation, how many did He see 
who either had sometime offended against His death by mortal sins 
or were so to offend ? And all these things made Christ conceive 
greater anguish and feel greater pain. 

[These things are enough to be given by way of a short intro¬ 
duction, and yet nothing can be enough to be said for the fruitful 
meditation of the Passion of Christ. Let him who is to meditate 
turn these things over in his mind. But above all, if we drink in 
with tender piety of heart and keep ever present to us that which 
has been touched upon in the first place, namely, Who it is that 
suffers and that dies, we shall then reap very special fruit from the 
meditation of the Passion and death of Christ. Men use, some one 
set of annotations, others another, and in this matter let each 
4 abound in his own sense ’ with humility of heart and simplicity. 
But let them remember this, that when they find our Lord give them 
spiritual devotion and fruit on any point, they had best make their 
exercise on that, and not easily divert their mind to other things. 
For my own part, I am accustomed to find it pleasant, in these 
meditations on the Passion of Christ, especially on the shedding of 
His Blood, to meditate on four heads. First, the infinite unseem¬ 
liness and indignity of the thing, as we see the Son of God, Himself 
Almighty God, receiving wounds from the lowest and worst of men. 
Secondly, the intensity of the pain which He the God Man suffered. 
Thirdly, the shedding of His Blood itself, which through the death 
of Christ brought forth life for me. Fourthly, if we meditate on 
what His most holy Virgin Mother suffered, whether as she 
meditated from a distance on what was being done, or whether 
she was there present and contemplated it. And as to this, we 
may piously believe that that privilege was not denied to the most 
Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, which so many pious men 
and women have obtained from God’s favour, that, though absent, 
they should be able to contemplate the mysteries of the Passion 
and death of Christ as if present to them. And lastly, I will add 
another thing, passing by many more. He who would meditate on 
the Passion and death of Christ, let him prepare himself for grief 
of soul, and for compassion with Christ, let him cast away from 
himself all pleasure and joy, that he may have in himself that mind 
and sentiment which was in Jesus Christ; and let him add two 
things more—to make thanksgiving for each one of the sorrows of 
Christ, and as he meditates those sorrows one by one, to ask for 
each some grace from God and Christ.] 

D 



Introduction to the History of the Sacred Passion. 


The death and Passion, by which our King and Saviour Jesus 
Christ brought His most holy life and glorious ministry to a close, 
to redeem thereby the whole human race from the miserable 
captivity of sin, and to give it the spiritual salvation of grace 
and eternal happiness and glory—these, from whatever side we 
look upon them, whether as to the Person Who suffers, or as 
to what He suffers, or as to the end for which He suffers, are 
the one most lofty and most divine and most secret mystery 
which has ever taken place in the world since God made it, or 
which ever shall be unto the end. And for the greater clearness 
of this history, it will be well to pass briefly in review the occa¬ 
sion taken by the Chief Priests and Pharisees to raise so great 
a tempest, and then to decree in their Council to put to so igno¬ 
minious a death our Lord Christ, Whom, however they might 
choose to blind themselves to all the rest, they could not deny 
to have been a most illustrious prophet, and a very great 
benefactor of their whole nation. And at the same time we 
may note what our Lord did on each of the days of that last 
w r eek of His life, which now, in memory of His most sacred 
death, we call Holy Week. 

The miracle of the raising of Lazarus was so great, so evident, 
and so public, that the splendour of so much light brought to 
its final completion the blinding and hardening of the hearts 
of the Jews. For though many believed in consequence, others, 
full of envy and infernal fury, returned to Jerusalem 1 to relate 
1 St. John xi. 46. 



Introduction . 


35 


and spread abroad what had taken place at Bethany. On this 
occasion the Chief Priests and Pharisees assembled in Council, 
and, having deliberated together concerning the matter, resolved 
that it was necessary to provide some remedy by which to put 
a stop to the miracles which were being wrought by our Lord, 
because, if this were not done, it was certain that all the 
people would believe in Him, and then it would follow that 
the Romans would think that the nation was rising in rebellion 
against them, and would come with an army to destroy their 
Temple and their city. 

Inspired by this fear, born of their covetousness and ambi¬ 
tion, or perhaps desiring to give, by this zeal for the public 
good, some colour to the envy and hatred raging in their hearts, 
they could find no other means for preventing His miracles 
but that of taking away our Lord’s life, and so they determined 
to put Him to death. And the Holy Spirit moved the infamous 
tongue of Caiaphas, on account of the office and dignity he held 
as High Priest, and so he brought to a formal resolution what 
had been discussed in the Council, saying that it was expedient 
that one man should die, that so the whole nation might not 
perish. This sentence, understood as it ought to be understood, 
Caiaphas did not speak of his own head, but, being the High 
Priest of that year, he prophesied that Christ our Lord should 
die for the sins of His people, and not for that nation only, 
but that so He should gather into the Church the wandering 
sheep who were dispersed 2 among the Gentiles, that is all who 
were predestinated to be sons of God. From the day of that 
Council, therefore, they were determined to put Him to death, 
as being a man whose life was opposed to the public good , 3 
they gave a general commandment that all those who knew of 
Him should manifest Him, that He might be apprehended and 
the sentence be executed. 

In all this, the blindness and perversity of these judges 
was discovered, seeing that they first pronounced the sentence 
and then proceeded to the trial. They pronounced the sentence 
of death in their Council when our Lord was absent, without 
2 St. lohn xi. 52. 3 Ibid. 56. 


D 2 



Introduction. 


3 ^ 


taking His own statement or hearing His defence, moved only 
by envy of His miracles and fear of losing their temporal goods. 
And if afterwards in the course of His Passion He had accusers 
and witnesses against Him, and was questioned respecting His 
disciples and His doctrine, all was only colour and appearance, 
and to strain everything in order to make the trial proceed in 
accordance with the original sentence. Thus it frequently is 
with our own resolutions ; they spring from passion or from 
crooked or vicious aims, and afterwards we endeavour to force 
our reason to range itself according to them. 

Meanwhile our Saviour, knowing of the sentence and the 
command given by the Priests for His apprehension, and that 
any one of the people was obliged to make Him known as a 
public enemy, retired to the region near the desert, unto a city 
that is called Ephrem , 4 and there abode with His disciples 
during those days, to give place to the anger of His enemies, and 
to await the time of His death, which had been determined by the 
Eternal Father, and also that He might give us an example of 
taking a fit time and choosing an appropriate place to prepare 
ourselves to depart this life. Who shall say after what manner 
our Saviour spent those days in that city? What were the 
thoughts which passed through His mind when He was so near 
to death ? What intercourse and converse did He hold with 
His disciples ? And how great was their sorrow, and what the 
heavenly words with which they were instructed and animated 
by their Master ? 

The appointed time having now arrived, our Saviour left 
the desert and city of Ephrem to come to suffer and die at 
Jerusalem. And He did this with such great firmness and 
determination, so much fervour and readiness , 5 that on the 
road He went before all, so that the disciples themselves were 
astonished at the novelty. 

During the course of the journey He took apart with Him 
the twelve disciples, and in secret and alone recounted to them 
the injuries and torments and death which were awaiting Him 
at Jerusalem. He also dismissed the petition of the mother of 
4 St. John xi. 54. 5 St. Mark x. 32. 



History of Holy Week. 


37 


the sons of Zebedee , 6 who claimed for them the two best places 
in the Kingdom of God. Then pursuing His way and arriving 
at the city of Jericho, He gave sight to a blind man, who made 
His petition to Him with a loud voice , 7 and entering the city 
He went as a guest to the house of Zaccheus , 8 inviting Himself 
and entering the doors of the same, a man who desired much 
to know Him, and was greatly anxious to entertain Him. There 
Jesus by His presence gave salvation to the whole house, and 
wrought the conversion of that great sinner and the chief of the 
Publicans. When our Lord left Jericho a great multitude 
followed Him , 9 and He healed two other blind men who were 
sitting by the wayside, and who, hearing that Jesus was passing 
by, cried out, begging Him to have pity upon them. Thus our 
Saviour, when on the road to suffer and to die, went along 
where He had to pass doing works of mercy, opening the 
treasuries of His power, shedding abroad the sweetness of 
His loving kindness, and giving signs and tokens of Who 
He was. 

Pursuing then His journey after this manner, he came to 
Bethany six days before the Pasch, as St. John says . 10 Our 
Saviour having been ordinarily accustomed to take up His abode 
in that place, and as there were many there who knew and loved 
Him, and as on the other hand the memory of his great miracle 
of the raising of Lazarus was so fresh among them, they all 
desired to welcome and feast Him and show Him some mark 
of their gratitude. Our Saviour, therefore, tarried there on the 
day of His arrival, and a great supper was then made for Him 
in the house of Simon, one of the chief men, whose heart was 
full of love and gratitude to our Saviour, because He had 
cured him of his leprosy. Lazarus, who had been raised from 
the dead, was one of those who sat at table with them; 
Martha, the sister of Lazarus, served, and Mary Magdalene, 
taking a vase of most precious ointment, anointed the feet of 
Jesus and wiped them with her hair, and afterwards breaking 
the vase, she poured it over His head, so that the whole house 

6 St. Matt. xx. 20. 7 St. Luke xviii. 35. 8 St. Luke xix. 2. 

9 St. Matt. xx. 29. 10 St. John xii. 1. 



38 


Introduction. 


was filled with the odour of the ointment Then Judas mur¬ 
mured, considering this to be wastefulness, and it would seem 
that the other disciples followed him. But our Saviour rebuked 
them with His accustomed loving kindness, praising the office 
which that woman had performed and showing that He had 
received with pleasure that honour and present, that it was a 
representation, and had reminded Him, of the day of His burial, 
which was so near at hand. On this occasion of our Saviour’s 
arrival at Bethany, when it became known at Jerusalem that 
He was there, so great a multitude of people went thither, not 
only to behold Jesus, but also Lazarus after he had been raised 
from the dead, that the Princes and Priests persevering in their 
envy and blindness and in the vain fear which had entered 
their hearts, took counsel and resolution to put Lazarus also to 
death, because by reason of him many believed in our Saviour. 

On the day following, which was Sunday, our Saviour left 
Bethany and came to Jerusalem , 11 whence they came to give 
Him that solemn reception with palm branches and made those 
honourable acclamations about the Son of David. All the 
multitude went about bearing witness to the power and majesty 
with which He had called Lazarus to come forth when he was 
in his grave, and this was the reason why they came forth to 
receive Him with so much pomp and such honourable and 
solemn ceremonies. And when He came within sight of the 
city, He was full of anguish and wept over it , 12 and predicted 
the heavy chastisement in store for it, because it had not 
exerted itself to profit by that present occasion and by the 
salvation and peace which were entering 'within its gates. 

At the noise of this entrance and solemn reception of His 
the whole city was moved , 13 people saying one to another, * Who 
is this?’ In order not to omit His usual custom and to bestow 
largess, as became a King, who had been received into the city 
as such, He went into the Temple and healed all the blind 
and lame who were there, at which the Chief Priests and the 
Scribes were so moved to displeasure that they could not any 
longer hide it, bnt reproached Him that He had permitted the 
11 St. John xii. 12. 12 St. Luke xix. 41. 13 St. Matt. xxi. 10. 



History of Holy Week. 


39 


children to proclaim Him the Son of David, and that He had 
not rebuked those who believed on Him by proclaiming Him 
aloud to be King of Israel . 14 But Jesus made no account of 
them, giving as a reason for not silencing the children in such 
a cause, that if they were to hold their peace the stones would 
cry out. And he listened with favour to the voices and acclama¬ 
tions of the children, seeing that it was written that out of the 
mouths of babes and of sucklings God had perfected praise. 
Then, after all this festivity, the hour being late, He viewed all 
things round about 15 and there being none to receive Him into 
their house or to invite Him to eat, He went back again out of 
the city and returned to Bethany with His disciples that night. 

On the day following, which was Monday, He left Bethany 
in the morning to return to Jerusalem, and feeling hungry 16 He 
saw afar off a fig tree which was by the side of the road, full of 
leaves, and went to look if perhaps He might find anything on 
it to eat. But finding nothing there, He cursed it in the 
hearing of His disciples, saying, 1 Let no man eat fruit of thee 
hereafter for ever.’ And then having come to the city, He 
entered into the Temple, and, full of zeal for the honour of His 
Father, He began to cast out those that sold and bought in the 
Temple, and overthrew the tables of the money changers and 
the places of them that sold doves, and set Himself with great 
force and authority 17 to hinder that any man should carry 
anything at all through the Temple. And although no one 
could resist the power and majesty with which He did this, 
nevertheless they conceived great anger and hatred against 
Him and sought means how they might take His life. For 
they feared Him because the whole multitude was in admiration 
at His doctrine . 18 And although it be true that St. Matthew 
gives this history of the Temple immediately after 19 the entry of 
our Saviour with the procession of palms, yet St. Mark, who 
takes note of the day , 20 says that it was the day after, that is on 
Monday. And it being now evening 21 He went again out of the 

14 St. Luke xix. 13. 15 St. Mark xi. 11. 

16 Ibid ; 13. 17 Ibid. 16. 18 Ibid. 18. 19 St. Matt. xxi. 12. 

20 St. Mark xi. 15. 21 Ibid. 19. 



40 


Introduction. 


city to the Mount of Olives, as was His 22 custom at night, and 
made His lodging at Bethany, which was on the slope of the 
hill and where He generally lodged. 

The following day, which was Tuesday, He returned early 
in the morning into the city, and passing along the same path 
as the day before, the disciples came to see that the fig tree 
which our Saviour had cursed had withered away. The male¬ 
diction pronounced by our Lord was no burst of anger, for that 
could not be in Him, nor was it a chastisement of the fig tree, 
for it was not deserving of it , 23 seeing that it was not the time 
for figs, nor could it feel chastisement; it was only a mystery 
and a representation of the Synagogue, which having so many 
leaves or ceremonies and outward show, had never brought 
forth the fruit which the Lord Who had planted it looked for 
from it, even when it was due season and it was bound to bear 
much fruit ; therefore it received His curse and dried up so as 
not to bear any fruit for ever. 

Our Saviour then came that day, which was Tuesday, to the 
Temple, and the Scribes and Pharisees and Priests and elders 
seeking Him out, He answered various questions which they 
put to Him, and convicted them by others which He put to 
them. Moreover, He preached to them in several parables that 
which had been in mystery acted on the fig tree, giving them 
to understand that they themselves were to be dried up and 
rejected, as may be seen in the twenty first and twenty second 
chapters of St. Matthew, and then He reproved them severely, 
and in clear and plain words, for their sins and abuses (as may 
be seen in the twenty third chapter), and took leave of them 
■with those forcible words in which the sentence of reprobation 
is so clearly pronounced against them : ‘ Behold, your house 
shall be left to you desolate ’—Ecce relinquetur vobis domus vestra 
deserta . 24 Which was as though He had said, Your Temple shall 
now be without inhabitant, because God will not abide in it 
henceforth, and it shall be thrown to the ground as a house 
which is deserted and with no dwellers therein. For verily I 

22 St. Luke xxi. 19. 23 St. Mark xi. 13. 

24 St. Matt, xxiii. 38. 



History of Holy Week. 


4 1 


say unto you, that from this time forth you shall see Me no 
more until you shall be constrained, whether you will or not, 
to confess Me as King, and shall cry out, ‘ Blessed is he that 
cometh in the name of the Lord.’ This was to remit them, as 
it were, to the final Day of Judgment, when, from the severity 
of their chastisement and the penalties of their condemnation, 
they should recognize the greatness of His majesty. By this 
sentence of reprehension and of rejection, full as it was of 
sternness and truth, our Saviour put an end to His teaching, 
and left them and went out of the Temple, it being now the 
evening of Tuesday. 

As our Saviour left the Temple in this resolute manner, 
and perhaps with signs of indignation against the hardness and 
obstinacy of the people, His disciples, who had seen all and 
had heard Him say that the Temple should be abandoned and 
that it would be destroyed, were moved to astonishment, or 
perhaps to pity and sorrow, and came gently up to Him and 
showed it to Him , 25 and made Him look at the greatness and 
majesty of the building and all its riches. But our Lord 
answered by affirming over again that all was to be destroyed, 
and that should not be left there one stone upon another. 
Then He passed on His way, and when He had seated Himself 
upon the Mount of Olives in view of the Temple and city, 
His disciples again came to Him and asked Him to tell them 
when those things should be, and what should be the signs of 
His last coming. On this it was that our Saviour foretold to 
them the Day of Judgment and what were to be the signs of 
that day, and all that is written in the twenty fourth and twenty 
fifth chapters of St. Matthew. He concluded His discourse by 
declaring to them 26 that after two days He should be crucified 
and die. 

The Wednesday following, our Saviour would seem to have 
remained in Bethany the whole day, for we do not find that 
He returned to Jerusalem again until Thursday, when He 
went thither to celebrate the Pasch. On that day, or there¬ 
abouts, it must have been that the Chief Priests and elders of 
25 St. Matt. xxiv. i. 


26 Ibid. xxvi. 2. 



42 


Introduction . 


the people, irritated by the rebukes which had been addressed 
to them the previous day, gathered together once more in the 
palace of the High Priest, to hold that council against our Lord 
of which St Matthew speaks , 27 and having already decreed in 
their first council to put Him to death, they resolved on this 
occasion upon two other things. The first, as to the manner 
of doing this—that is, that He should be taken by craft and 
treachery. The second, as to the time—that it should be put 
off until after the Pasch, and this not from any zeal for religion, 
but from fear lest, as so large a multitude was to be assembled 
at Jerusalem of people who knew and revered our Saviour and 
had received many benefits from Him, there might perhaps arise 
some tumult and revolt which might rescue their prisoner out 
of their hands and defeat their design. Such, then, was the 
result of this meeting, which having taken place on Wednesday, 
the Church in ancient times fasted on that day, as says 
St. Augustine ; 28 and it seems a mystery that the Evangelist 
remarks that at the very time when our Saviour was foretelling 
to His disciples that He should be crucified on the solemn day 
of the Feast, the Chief Priests were decreeing in their council 
that His death should not be on the day of the Feast. For thus 
we see howrthe time and place and circumstances of the Passion 
were all of them decreed in the divine counsels, which pre¬ 
vailed against the councils of men. The reasons occasioning 
them to change their intention may have been, as it seems, the 
following. 

Judas was in a state of indignation and evil temptation 
against our Saviour and His doctrine, and hearing that the Chief 
Priests and Pharisees were endeavouring in their councils to 
devise some means whereby they might take Him and put Him 
to death without causing an uproar among the people, he wished 
not to let the opportunity pass, and so went to them and offered, 
if they would pay him well, to deliver Him up and place Him 
in their hands. They thought their end was now gained by 
means of the good offices of Judas, and agreed with him as to 
the price they should give him, and from that time forth Judas 
2 7 xxvi. 3. 28 Ep. 86. 



History of Holy Week. 


43 


set himself to seek to betray Him to them privately and without 
any tumult . 29 From which it is to be inferred that Judas did 
not make this contract the night itself of the Last Supper, but 
a day or two beforehand, during which time he was seeking for 
an occasion to deliver his Lord into their hands. Nor, on the 
other hand, does it appear that the contract was made before 
the council, because if this had been the case, the Chief Priests 
would not have consulted together as to the manner they must 
have recourse to in order to take Jesus by craft. The opinion 
most commonly entertained seems therefore the most probable, 
that Judas, being aware of what was discussed in the council, 
went to them and gave them the means which they sought, 
thinking the thirst and eagerness which they felt to buy Him a 
.good occasion for himself to sell Him, and that on this account 
he said to them, ‘What will you give me ?’—Quid vultis mihi 
dare ? As if he had said, 1 If you so greatly desire to have Him 
in your hands without a disturbance being made and by craft, 
what will you give me? and I will deliver him to you and 
accomplish your wishes.’ 

The Chief Priests were glad 30 of so good an opportunity of 
carrying out their evil designs, and in order not to lose it, 
determined to execute their fury on the first and most solemn 
day of the Festival itself, and contrary to what they had decided 
upon in the council. Nor is it to be wondered at that people 
so superstitious as they, should nevertheless keep that Festival 
so badly, since on other occasions also, as on the Feast of 
Tabernacles , 31 and on that of the Dedication 32 or Restoration of 
the Temple, they had sought to take Him and to stone Him. 
For as they were blind enough to seek the death of one so Holy 
and Innocent, it was not much for them to be so blind as to 
break the Festival. As, moreover, they might seek to give some 
colour to this wickedness of theirs, by looking upon our Saviour 
as a man so blasphemous and sacrilegious that it would seem to 
them to be for the honour of God and for the maintenance of 
ihe law that He should be crucified upon the Festival, seeing 

29 St. Matt. xxvi. 16. 30 St. Mark xiv. n ; St. Luke xxii. 5. 

31 St. John vii. 2, 30. 32 Ibid. xxii. 31, 39. 



44 


Introduction . 


that He was Himself, as they stated, a breaker of Festivals. 
Finally, they had no other reason for delaying to crucify Him 
on the day of the Feast, except the fear they had that a tumult 
should arise amongst the people, and now that there was no 
longer any fear of such an inconvenience, through the means 
offered to them by Judas, they changed their plan, and deter¬ 
mined not to keep the Feast badly by leaving our Lord alive 
upon it. 

Thursday morning dawned, it being that year the fourteenth 
day of the first moon of March. On this day, two solemnities 
occurred together. The first was the sacrifice of the Paschal 
Lamb, with all the proper ceremonies ; 33 which it was ordained 
should take place on the fourteenth day of the moon in the 
evening. It was, therefore, to be celebrated that year on 
Thursday in the afternoon before sunset. The second solemnity 
was what is termed the Feast of the Azymes , 34 which lasted for 
seven days, therefore, from the fifteenth of the moon until the 
twenty first (both included). The first day of this feast, which 
was most solemn, began on the evening of Thursday, according 
to the custom of the Jews, who celebrated their feasts from the 
evening of one day until that of the next following. Hence we 
can understand the various modes of speaking of the different 
Evangelists. For St. John says 35 that our Saviour celebrated 
the Last Supper and washed the feet of His disciples the day 
before the Festival of the Pasch, meaning by the day of the 
festival, or the solemn day of the Pasch, the Friday which was 
the first of the Azymes. The other three Evangelists 36 say 
that it was on the first day of the Feast of Azymes that the 
Saviour sent two of His disciples to prepare a place where the 
Pasch might be celebrated, and by the first day of the Feast of 
Azymes, or Unleavened Bread, they mean the Thursday, because 
on that night they began to eat the unleavened bread with the 
sacrifice of the Lamb. 

According to this, it was, then, on this morning of Thursday 
that our Saviour sent two of His Apostles from Bethany to 

33 Exodus xii. 6. 34 Ibid. 18. 35 St. John xiii. i. 

36 St. Matt* xxvi. 17 ; St. Mark xiv. 12 ; St. Luke xxii. 7. 



History of Holy Week . 


45 


Jerusalem, with certain tokens to guide them, to prepare the 
place where the Pasch was to be celebrated, to which place He 
afterwards came with all His disciples, and in the evening at 
the hour appointed He celebrated the sacrifice of the Lamb 
with all the ceremonies which the Law enjoined. The usual 
and ordinary supper followed, then the washing of the feet, the 
institution of the most Holy Sacrament, and all the rest in 
order until He was taken and brought before the High Priest. 

On Friday continued the whole process of the Passion until 
our Saviour was crucified and died upon the Cross at the ninth 
hour. That Friday is called by St. John 37 Parasceve Paschce ; 
the same term being given to it by St. Mark , 38 Parasceve , quod 
£st ante Sabbatum (the Parasceve, that is the day before the 
Sabbath), Parasceve signifying the same thing as preparation. 
For as it was not lawful on the Sabbath to dress meats or even 
to light fires, God commanded them 39 that they should dress the 
meats for the Sabbath on the Friday therefore, and thus the 
Friday was termed the Parasceve , quod est ante Sabbatum. And 
because this Sabbath fell within the seven days of the Pasch, 
St. John says that it was a great day , 40 that is, that Sabbath 
day was particularly great, because it was not only the Sabbath, 
but also one of the days of the Pasch, and because of the mul¬ 
titude of strangers who had come to the Pasch and who were 
detained in Jerusalem, not being able to return on the Sabbath 
day to their homes, and therefore that Sabbath day was so very 
great and solemn. 

For all these reasons, as St. John says , 41 the Jews were in 
great haste to put an end to the lives of those who were 
crucified, so that before the Sabbath began they might take 
the bodies down from the cross and give them burial, thinking, 
perhaps, that it would not be lawful to do this on a Sabbath 
day, on which day many more works were forbidden to them 
than on other feast days—especially when they were able to 
anticipate them; and it being also commanded in the Law 42 
that the bodies of those who had been executed should be 

37 xix. 14. 38 xv. 42. 39 Exodus xvi. 22, 23. 

40 xix. 31. 41 xix. 41. 42 Deut. xxi. 23. 



46 


History of Holy Week. 


taken down from the cross and be buried the same day. In 
accordance with this, on that same Friday our Saviour was 
taken down from the Cross in the evening and buried. 

On the Sabbath, the disciples and the holy women who had 
accompanied our Saviour remained quiet in retirement, accord¬ 
ing to the commandment . 43 And when the Sabbath was past , 44 
which would be in the evening after sunset, they went out to 
buy aromatic ointments that they might then go early in the 
morning to the sepulchre to anoint the body of Jesus. 

This, then, is the order of the events which passed during 
that week, which we call Holy; and this is what it seemed 
necessary to premise in order to make intelligible some diffi¬ 
culties in the history of the Sacred Passion, which we shall now 
begin to recount, dwelling on the points on which it may seem 
that we may insist with most profit in meditation, beginning 
from the contract made by Judas, which, as we have said 
above, most probably took place on the Wednesday, when 
the Priests were holding their second council at Jerusalem 
concerning our Saviour’s death. 


43 St. Luke xxiii. 56. 


u St. Mark xvi. 1. 



THE HISTORY 


OF 

THE SACRED PASSION. 




CHAPTER I. 


The Coimcil against oily Saviour and His betrayal by 

Judas. 

As it was to be that our Master and Redeemer Jesus Christ 
should offer Himself to death because He chose, and as no 
violence placed Him on the Cross, but only His own free and 
loving will, so, the nearer the time approached, the nearer also 
He drew to the place of His Passion and death. Having made 
His solemn entry with the Procession of Palms into Jerusalem, 
and gone to and fro several times between Bethany and the 
Temple for those days which followed, having ended all His 
discourses, and thus fulfilled His office of Teacher, and being 
■now about to begin to discharge His office of Redeemer, as a 
conclusion to all His doctrine He clearly and openly warned 
His disciples of the day, now so near, of His ignominious and 
bitter Passion . 1 ‘You know,’ He said to them, ‘that after two 
days shall be the solemn festival of the Pasch, and now I give 
you to know that on that same day I am to be delivered up 
into the hands of the Jews and Gentiles, who will put Me to 
death upon a cross.’ 

The Chief Priests, who were full of envy and passion, and 
had been irritated by the reproval of their vices which our 
Saviour had publicly uttered the day before with so great firm¬ 
ness and truth, assembled in council against Him 2 in the house 
of the High Priest who was called Caiaphas, and there deter¬ 
mined upon two things. First, that it was expedient to seize 
Him by cunning and craft, and without violence or publicity. 
Secondly, to put this off until after the Pasch, and this* not 
from zeal for religion or the reverence which they owed to the 

1 St. Matt. xxvi. 2. 2 Ibid. 3. 

E 


50 


The Sacred Passion. 


festival, but only on account of the fear which they entertained, 
that as so many people had to assemble in Jerusalem who knew 
and esteemed and had received benefits from our Saviour, these 
might raise a tumult or commotion, by means of which their 
prisoner would be rescued from their hands and their evil 
intents be brought to nought. But the very reverse of all 
which they had determined was what they did. For they put 
our Saviour to death on the day of the Festival and His capture 
was made with violence and by armed force. From which we 
see how weak are the counsels of man and that they cannot 
prevail against the counsels of God. The reason of the change 
appears to have been this. Judas was full of indignation and 
evil temptation against our Saviour and against the doctrine 
which He taught. The perdition of this unhappy and miserable 
apostate began from his covetousness, because having charge 
of the alms which were given to our Saviour, he used to steal 
this money for his own purposes . 3 And then, being overcome 
and mastered by this passion, he began to care less, and by 
little and little to conceive hatred and abhorrence, for the 
doctrine and person of our Redeemer, Who taught so uncom¬ 
promisingly the love of poverty and condemned the coveting of 
temporal riches. 

Going on further and further thus, Judas at last so hardened 
his heart, that in his unwillingness to look into his own con¬ 
science or lay to his own charge his own state of misery, he laid 
it all upon our Saviour by censuring and murmuring at all He 
did or said. At last he came no longer to believe in Him, but 
looked upon His doctrine as imposture and on His miracles as 
fictitious, and he did harm by his words and example to all 
those who listened to and who followed our Saviour. For, on 
the occasion of that most sublime discourse which He delivered 
to His disciples , 4 wherein He promised them that He would 
give them His flesh to eat and His blood to drink, Judas must 
have been the chief among those who murmured, exclaiming 
‘This saying is hard and who can bear it !’* Most probably, 
too, he was at the head of that movement of revolt which was 
3 St. John xih 6. 4 Ibid. vi. 5 Ibid. 6i. 



Evil state of Judas. 


5i 


the reason why so many of the disciples ‘went back and walked 
no more with our Saviour .’ 6 For amongst other things said 
by our Lord on that occasion was this, that there are some 
amongst you My followers who believe not Hand the Evangelist 
tells us that our Saviour said this because He knew from the 
beginning who they were that did not believe, and who he 
was that should betray Him. And as Judas nevertheless still 
dissembled and remained among the Apostles, yet our Lord 
seeing and knowing that his heart was so bad and that he had 
as little faith as those who had gone away, in order to correct 
him honourably and in secret, said to all the twelve Apostles 
together, ‘Will you also go away?’ And St. Peter, imagining 
that all the rest had the same good heart as himself, answered 
in the name of them all, ‘ Lord, to whom shall we go ? Thou 
hast the words of eternal life, and we have believed and have 
known that Thou art the Christ, the Son of God.’ But our 
Saviour, Who knew well whom He had in His company of 
disciples, answered, with an allusion to Judas, and to give him 
an occasion to move himself to compunction if he had not 
been so hardened, replied, ‘ Have not I chosen you twelve, and 
one of you is a devil ? ’ The Evangelist says that he meant 
this for Judas, who was to betray Him, being one of the twelve. 
This devil then did our Saviour bear with for so long a time 
and treat with so much gentleness and patience, so much 
honour and such observance of secrecy, until he delivered Him 
in very deed into the hands of His enemies. 

Another circumstance took place during these days which 
led Judas to put the crown to his irritation and made him fall 
headlong into the depths of perdition. For six days before the 
Pasch Jesus came to Bethany , 8 where He had lately raised 
Lazarus to life, and the remembrance of that wonderful miracle 
being still fresh, all were desirous to feast Him and do Him 
honour, and to show Him some token of their gratitude. On 
this account they made Him a supper, at which Lazarus who 
had been raised from the dead was one of the guests who sat 
at the table, for greater evidence of the miracle and greater 

6 St. John vi. 67. 7 Ibid. 65. 8 Ibid. xii. 1. 

E 2 



52 


The Sacred Passion. 


honour to our Saviour, Who had wrought it, causing so much 
wonder and awe in all, that many people came to Bethany from 
Jerusalem in great numbers only to see Lazarus . 9 

The two sisters of Lazarus, Martha and Mary (at whose 
entreaty the Lord had raised their brother to life), were present 
at this supper, with hearts overflowing with fervour, with love, 
and with gratitude, and displaying in the best way they could 
the feelings with which they were animated towards our Lord. 
For Martha, being a lady of quality, and being in another 
person’s house, that of Simon the leper, would not have any 
one take from her the office she had been accustomed to dis¬ 
charge in her own house, and so served in her own person at 
the table , 10 brought in the food, served it, and carried the 
dishes, and with the utmost joy and devotion occupied herself 
in waiting upon our Saviour. 

But Mary Magdalene, who had kept all the luxuries of her 
past life that she might therewith serve and make presents to 
our Lord, had amongst them a vessel of most sweet liquid 
ointment, of great value and cost, being made of precious 
spikenard . 11 Nor was it small in quantity, for it amounted to a 
whole pound’s weight ; 12 and, in short, was such that to Judas it 
seemed great w T aste and superfluity to pour it out. But holy 
Magdalene, who had far different esteem of our Lord from Judas, 
thought it a very little thing to employ it in His service, and so 
coming into the chamber and falling down at His feet, she 
anointed them with a portion of the ointment, and then wiped 
them with her hair, and we may well believe that she kissed 
them many times with great love and reverence. Then she rose, 
and to show still more the greatness of her love, and to show 
how little it seemed to her to pour out such precious ointment, 
so that she might thereby serve and honour our Lord, that 
there might not remain one drop of it, she broke the vase, 
which was of alabaster , 13 and let the whole of the remainder 
fall upon His head, and so fine was it that the wffiole house 
•was filled with the sweet odour, and until this day the whole 

9 St. John xii. 9. 10 Ibid. 2. 11 St. Mark xiv. 3. 

12 St. John xii. 3. 13 St. Matt. xxvi. 7. 



Anointing by Magdalene. 


53 


Church is full of the fragrance of the example of her so great 
devotion and charity. 

Our Saviour accepted with loving condescension the service 
of Magdalene, not for the sake of the pleasure or delight which 
His Body might feel at that anointing, for as He had offered 
His feet and His hands to the nails, and His head to the 
thorns, He did not seek nor claim to regale Himself with the 
fragrance of sweet ointments. But He was much pleased with 
this service for the spirit and devotion of her who paid it, and 
also on account of the fitting time and season at which she 
did this. The soul of Mary Magdalene was all inflamed with 
love, for if when she first went into the house of the Pharisee 
to weep over and entreat forgiveness of her sins, she was 
moved and drawn by love, as our Lord Himself testified of 
her, how greatly must her love now have increased, after she 
had witnessed His miracles with so great admiration, and had 
heard with such delight and calmness of spirit His discourses, 
and had received benefits from Him in such abundance ? The 
time at which she performed this work was so near to the 
death of our Saviour, that the ointment might, as it were, serve 
for that with which He was to be buried, in accordance with 
the custom of that people, and so our Lord, wishing it to be 
understood not so much that He had permitted Himself to be 
anointed as one alive as that He had allowed Himself to be 
embalmed as if He were already dead, with very great courtesy 
took the part of that devout woman to His Apostles, and 
said—‘Why do you trouble this woman with your calumnies 
and murmurings ? for she hath well done what she hath done 
to Me, she has been beforehand in anointing My Body for My 
burial. Amen I say unto you, wheresoever this Gospel shall be 
preached in the whole world, together with what I have done 
and suffered for men, that also which she hath done shall be 
proclaimed, that she may be praised and honoured for it .’ 14 

Judas was present at all this, and though he had so much 
reason to praise the devotion of Mary and to rejoice at the 
honour and pleasure done to his Master, yet he took it as a 
14 St. Matt. xxvi. io. 



54 


The Sacred Passion . 


great grievance that the ointment had been poured out, giving 
as a reason 15 that it was very valuable, and that with its 
price the necessities of the poor might have been relieved. 
But in truth he cared very little for the relief of the poor, but 
he was a thief, and kept a purse of his own as one who had his 
own property, and stole w T hat was given to our Saviour, and 
so he desired that that alms should be turned into money. 
Then—such is the effect of bad example—it seems that the 
other Apostles spoke as well as he in finding fault, moved 
thereto by the reason which Judas had given in favour of the 
poor, although not with the malice with which he spoke. And 
they carried on in ignorance and delusion—as so often happens 
—the fault-finding which he had begun in malice and passion. 

Judas, then, being in this state of mind, remained with his 
body only amongst the Apostles, while his heart was with the 
Pharisees, the enemies of Christ. Having left the supper at 
Bethany with great irritation, and hearing, on the other hand, 
the storm which was being raised against our Lord, and that 
His enemies were seeking for Him that they might put Him to 
death, he began to fear lest some part of all this trouble might 
fall upon himself, and that he might be treated as one of His 
disciples, and so determined to save himself and gain at one 
throw both friends and money. Knowing, moreover, that the 
Chief Priests were taking counsel together, and were searching 
for means whereby to seize our Saviour by deceit, this false 
and dissembling traitor, overmastered by the devil, made his 
way to them, and confirmed them (as is most probable) in their 
intentions, by giving testimony as one who had lived and con¬ 
versed with our Lord, that He was indeed worthy of the death 
wdiich they were contriving, and offering them his services, 
promising to place Jesus in their hands if they would give him 
a reward for so doing . 16 

The Chief Priests greatly rejoiced 17 to have in their own 
favour the testimony of Judas, and fixed as the price they 
would give him for his good services thirty pieces of silver. And 

15 St. John xii. 5. 16 St. Matt. xxvi. 15. 

17 St. Mark xiv. II ; St. Luke xxii. 5. 



Going to the Pasch. 


55 


he, vile and mean as he was, thought this a good price at 
which to sell to them the Lord of Majesty; and having been 
traitor to God and to justice and to truth, he took pains to 
keep faith with the enemies of God and of justice and of truth. 
From henceforth, therefore, he sought with much carefulness to 
find an opportunity of performing the promise he had made to 
them. 


CHAPTER II. 

Jesus eats the Paschal Lamb with His Disciples . 

When Thursday morning had arrived, which was the first day 
of the Azymes, or of Unleavened Bread, our Saviour was either 
at Bethany (where He had tarried the preceding day) or on 
His way to Jerusalem, when, before they entered the city, His 
disciples began to speak to Him 1 as to where He desired that 
they should prepare what was necessary for the celebration of 
the Pasch, since it was now so near at hand. Our Saviour, to 
show that He had not forgotten the matter, but that His Divine 
Wisdom understood all things, and directed and guided them by 
His providence, called to Him two of His Apostles , 2 St. Peter 
.and St. John, and said unto them, ‘Behold, as you go into the 
city, there shall meet you a man carrying a pitcher of water; 
follow him into the house where he entereth in, and give the 
owner this message from me : The Master sends to tell thee, 
the time which I have determined and marked for My death is 
near at hand; this is to be My last Pasch and My last Supper, 
and I have determined to make it in thy house with My 
disciples. And when you have thus spoken to him, he will 
show you a large room well furnished, and there you may 
prepare the Pasch.’ The two disciples went, and everything 

1 St. Matt. xxvi. 17. 2 St. Luke xxii. 8. 




56 


The Sacred Passion. 


took place exactly as our Saviour had said. Then they pre¬ 
pared all which was requisite in the house of that most favoured 
man, to whom our Lord sent so precious a message, asking for 
his house that He might celebrate therein mysteries so sublime. 

Our Saviour then entered the city, and with all His com¬ 
pany repaired to the house of His host, who was awaiting 
His presence. The Paschal Lamb was ready, together with the 
bitter herbs, the unleavened bread, the staves, and the other 
requisites for celebrating the Pasch. When the proper time 
had arrived, our Saviour prepared Himself to perform the cere¬ 
mony. They sacrificed the lamb, they sprinkled with its blood 
the doorposts of the house, they roasted the lamb in the fire. 
Then our Saviour put shoes on His feet, and girded up His 
robe, took the staff in His hand, and stood at the table, with 
His Apostles in like dress and guise as Himself. Then they 
began to eat the lamb with the unleavened bread and the 
bitter herbs, eating in haste and as though they were on a 
journey. For all this was done in memory of the passage from 
Egypt, and of the temporal liberty given by God to that people 
of the Jews, which was a symbol of the spiritual liberty from 
the slavery of sin and of the devil which we are to gain by 
virtue of the blood of Jesus Christ, Who now with great con¬ 
stancy and magnanimity was beginning His Passion by this 
symbol and representation thereof. 

This ceremony being concluded, they laid aside the staves, 
and sat down to eat the usual and ordinary supper, during 
which our Saviour, with the greatest meekness and tenderness 
and manifestations of love began to feast with His Apostles, 
saying unto them 3 how much He had desired to sup with them 
that day before His death, and to have them as His guests at 
that Pasch. ‘ With desire/ said He, ‘I have desired to eat this 
Pasch with you before My Passion/ giving them to understand 
from the strength and greatness of His desire that the mysteries 
which were to be wrought at that Supper for the good of the 
whole Church were so great that it was meet and due that the- 
desire, and the very great desires, of the Son of God should be 
3 St. Luke xxii. 15. 



Treason foretold. 


57 


occupied with them. He also told them that supper would be 
the last which He would eat with them in His mortal flesh 
until they should be united to Him in the feasts of Heaven, 
where He would fully supply all their desires, and give them 
perfect satiety. ‘For you are they,’ He said , 4 ‘who have been 
My faithful friends and companions, who have continued with 
Me and have not forsaken Me in all My travails and tempta¬ 
tions, and I consequently must make you the companions of 
My rest and of My glory; and I will give you a portion in the 
Kingdom which My Father has given to Me, that you may 
sit at My Table and eat of that spiritual food which gives 
satiety, and be filled w T ith the torrents of the delights of God/ 
All this the Saviour said to console His disciples, who were 
being left as orphans, promising them a great and very rich 
heritage by means of His death. 

Judas was amongst them, his countenance hiding from them 
all the -wickedness and treachery of his heart. And our Saviour, 
with ineffable gentleness, ate at the same table and at the same 
dish with a man of whom He knew that he had gone to the Chief 
Priests and was treating with them to betray Him, that he had 
already concluded the bargain and fixed the price, nay, that he 
was then thinking of nothing else but how to find a good 
opportunity for delivering Him into their hands. And then, to 
show that He well knew and understood all this, and that He 
suffered of His own freewill, and also in order to touch the 
heart of Judas and give him an opportunity of entering into 
himself, seeing that his secret was known, our Lord, among the 
other words which He spake at that Supper, lovingly complained 
of this, saying , 5 ‘ Amen, Amen, I say unto you that one of you 
is about to betray Me, and has conspired with My enemies 
against Me.’ On hearing these words, they all of them began 
to be very sorrowful and to cast troubled glances at one 
another, but much more did each one look into his own con¬ 
science, and to see whether in himself or in the others he could 
discern any traces of such treachery. And although their 

4 St. Luke xxii. 28. 

5 St. Matt. xxvi. 21 ; St. Mark xiv. 18 ; St. Luke xxii. 21. 



58 


The Sacred Passion. 


consciences did not reproach them, they began to say to Him 
humbly one by one, ‘Lord, can it be I?’ moved as they were 
by holy fear, and desiring to satisfy themselves and one another 
by the answer of our Lord. 

Amidst these discourses the Supper proceeded, and of the 
thirteen who were seated at the table, three or four, as was the 
custom, ate out of one dish. And, as the Apostles entreated 
our Saviour that He should declare who amongst them was the 
traitor, and thereby free those who were innocent from so terrible 
a fear and suspicion; our Saviour, desiring, rather to reclaim 
Judas than to defame him, did not choose to discover altogether 
the secret, lest the stigma set upon him and the hatred of his 
brother disciples should cause that unfortunate wretch altogether 
to lose courage and to despair. Still, in order to make his 
crime seem greater, and to give some more particular mark to 
those who were questioning Him, answered , 6 ‘Amen I say to 
you, that he who is to sell Me is not only seated at table with 
Me, but he eats of the same dish with Me; and true it is that 
by this path the Son of Man (that is I) goes to His death, and 
the shameful death of the Cross; nevertheless He goes of His 
own freewill, and in order to obey His Father and for the 
redemption of all the world, and to obtain by means of death 
great glory and a name above every name, as all the Scrip¬ 
tures affirm and testify. But woe to him who is to betray the 
Son of Man to death ! for although at present he may seem to 
triumph and to gain friends and money, yet of a truth he is 
going to perdition and death and to eternal torments, so great 
and grievous that it had been better for him had he never been 
bom . 7 

Judas, seeing that it was he who was signified, and that the 
sign of eating from the same dish applied to himself, was so 
irritated by these last words, which were words of menace, that 
he turned round like a serpent, and with an angry countenance 
and harsh voice, and with as little of shame on his face as he 
had of the fear of God in his heart, looked upon our Saviour 
with rolling and flaming eyes, and asked , 7 ‘Is it I, Rabbi?’ 

6 St. Matt. xxvi. 23. 7 Ibid. 25. 



Washing the Feet. 


59 


And our Saviour, with infinite consideration and gentleness, 
and as it would seem with lowered voice, since the rest did not 
understand it, answered him, ‘Thou hast said .’ 8 Which reply, 
after the manner of speaking in the Hebrew tongue, was the 
same as to tell him plainly that so it was. 


CHAPTER III. 

Our Saviour washes the feet of His Disciples. 

The night before the solemn festival having now come, and 
Jesus, knowing that His hour had arrived, and that this was 
the day on which through death He should pass from this 
world to His Father, although He had always felt and shown 
great love for His own who were in this world, He desired 
nevertheless, at the end of His life, to give them still greater 
signs and proofs of the love He bore them. For this reason, 
when that, common and ordinary supper was ended, and Judas 
had resolved, at the instigation of the devil, to betray Him, 
and Jesus—being such as He was, and so great, being in truth 
the only begotten Son of God, in Whose hands the Father had 
placed all things, and being now to return to His Father Who had 
sent Him—in order to give us an example of humility, and to 
show the tenderness of His love, He performed a work so entirely 
new and unthought of as we shall now see it to have been. 
For He arose from table, and commanded the Apostles to rise 
also, and to seat themselves in the order and manner most 
suitable for the act He was about to perform. And having 
done this, He laid aside His upper garment, remaining only 
with His under vestment, and taking a cloth or towel, girded 

8 St. Matt. xxvi. 25. 




6o 


The Sacred Passion. 


Himself with it. After this He poured water into a bason, 
and kneeling on the ground, began to wash the feet of His 
disciples. 

In this manner He gave them not only an example of 
humility, but a manifest token and pledge of His love, for love 
never disdains to perform any office, however low it may be, 
towards those whom it loves. And our Saviour performed this 
office, low and servile as it was, with so much joy, and did it so 
thoroughly, and with as much perfection, as though He had 
had no other occupation during the whole of His life. For He 
performed it entirely Himself, without the aid of any, nor did 
He disdain to rise from table and to take off His garment and 
to gird Himself with a towel—He Who, being the Son of God, 
had deigned to become Man, and humbled and emptied 
Himself , 1 taking on Him the form of a servant—nor did He 
think it unbecoming there, with the table and victuals around, 
to handle the unclean feet of the Apostles, He Who so loved us 
as to shed His Blood to cleanse us from the filth of our sins. 

Our Saviour began this service with Simon Peter, to whom 
in all things he was wont to give the first place as to the head of 
the Apostles, for with the head it is reasonable that purification 
and cleansing and reformation of manners should begin. But 
when St. Peter saw a thing so new and astounding, he ex¬ 
claimed, with all his accustomed fervour and impetuosity— 
‘ Lord, dost Thou wash my feet ? Thou, my feet ? Who art 
Thou and who am I ? ’ This is a thing, as St. Augustine says 
upon this place, rather to think of than to speak of, for perhaps 
the tongue could not avail to express what the mind strives to 
conceive concerning these words. 

Jesus our Lord did not desist from His intention on account 
of this reverent resistance on the part of the Apostle Peter, for 
although it sprang from reverence and humility, it was never¬ 
theless founded on ignorance of the reasons and the ends that 
He had in view in performing this office. For He not only 
wished to give them thereby an example of humility and a 
mark of His charity, but also to teach them by this ceremony 
1 Philip, ii. 6. 




Peter's resistance. 


61 


how necessary is interior purity of soul to the reception of the 
Sacrament of His Body and Blood, which He was about in a 
very short time to give them, and also that it was impossible to 
attain to this purity unless He bestowed it on them by washing 
them in His own blood; that, moreover, without this washing, 
they could have no part in Him nor with Him. All this our 
Saviour wished to teach St. Peter by that symbol and figure of 
the washing of the feet, and He took occasion to do so from 
the opposition offered to Him by the Apostle, who looked only 
to what was becoming, and not at all beyond what was seen 
externally in that action, and so Jesus addressed him thus— 
‘What I do thou knowest not now; I have many and sufficient 
reasons, and if thou knewest them, thou wouldest not attempt 
to hinder Me, but as thou knowest them not, thou makest this 
resistance; let Me then wash thee as I desire, for in due time 
thou wilt understand it all.’ Nevertheless, St. Peter persisted 
in his obstinacy, thinking, perhaps, that the reasons for doing 
that office of which our Saviour spoke were only to give them 
that example of humility. And he would not consent to such an 
example as to his own feet, and so he answered resolutely— 

4 Thou shalt never wash my feet, either now or at any time ; I 
will not consent to it; it shall never come to pass; I will never 
allow that Thou shalt wash my feet.’ 

Our Lord, seeing the obstinacy of St. Peter, and that he 
would not submit to have his feet washed with water by Him 
Who was about to wash away all our sins in His blood, answered 
with equal firmness—‘ If I wash thee not thou wilt have no 
part with Me; ’ as though He had said — 4 Do not attempt, 
Peter, to hinder Me in this service of washing away the stains 
and soils of men, for no one can do it save Myself, Who am 
come into the world 2 not to be ministered unto but to minister, 
and to give My life for the redemption of all men. Nor do 
thou seek to do Me courtesy to thine own prejudice, but permit 
yourself to be washed and to enjoy this benefit, for if I wash 
you not you may give up My friendship, and look on yourself 
as one who has nothing to do with Me.’ 

2 St. Matt. xx. 28. 



62 


The Sacred Passion. 


But as this obstinacy of the Apostle did not proceed from 
hardness and disobedience, but rather from reverence and humi¬ 
lity, so, when he saw that it imported him much that he should 
allow himself to be washed, and heard the threat with which 
our Lord menaced him, he offered, not his feet only, but his 
hands and his head to be washed, as if to say, as St. Augustine 
says 3 —‘Since Thou threatenest me thus, not only do I entreat 
that Thou wouldst wash the lowest part of my body, such as 
my feet, but I offer Thee also the highest portion, which is my 
head; and as Thou dost not refuse to let me have part in 
Thee, no more will I refuse to Thee that Thou shouldst wash 
any part of me whatever.’ ‘ He that is washed,’ said our 
Saviour, ‘ needeth not to wash more than his feet, since for the 
rest he As already wholly clean,’ showing thereby that neither 
must he refuse to have his feet, which were soiled, washed, nor, 
on the other hand, need he offer his head and his hands, which 
were clean. For this is what is wont to happen, that after a 
man has been cleaned and washed, on getting out of the bath 
some dust or dirt clings to his feet, on account of which he 
washes them once more. So, in the same manner, after one has 
been cleansed from grievous and mortal sin, there often clings 
to him the dust of venial sins. Thus it is well for him to wash 
his feet, and to purify himself more and more, as much as 
possible, before receiving the Divine Sacrament. And as our 
Lord’s Heart was pierced as by a thorn by the perdition of 
Judas, He would not allow any opportunity to pass of showing 
this feeling, and of rousing him to enter into himself, and so He 
took occasion from what was going on to give him as it were a 
passing blow, saying—‘That which happens to a man who, 
having his whole body clean, has his feet soiled, the same has 
been your case, for in truth you are clean, but not all.’ Because 
He knew well who of them was to betray Him, He said they 
were not all clean. The Apostle, overcome by these words, 
allowed his feet to be washed, and so afterwards did the rest 
in their order, none venturing to offer any contradiction or 
resistance after having heard what our Lord had answered 






Tract xxxvi. on St. John. 






The Blessed Sacrament. 


63 


to St. Peter. And as our Lord desired to charge this benefit 
which He had bestowed upon them with the condition that we 
should do to our brethren what He has done to us, we ought 
to pay great attention to that which He did, in order to know 
what we ought to do, and consider in this action of His the 
silence, the humility, the joyful countenance, the diligence, 
and the modesty of our Saviour, and also, on the other hand, 
the devotion and reverence, the submission and wonder of the 
Apostles, the vexation, disdain, and rudeness with which Judas 
allowed himself to be washed, and the meekness, patience, and 
charity with which our Saviour placed Himself at his feet. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Our Lord institutes the most holy Sacrament , and declares 
to St. John who is His betrayer. 

The hour had now come when Jesus Christ our Lord, the 
eternal High Priest after the order of Melchisedech, was to offer 
His Body and Blood as a true sacrifice to appease the anger of 
God, and to reconcile the whole world to Him. This self same 
Body and Blood, which He was to offer upon the Cross, He 
willed should remain perpetually in the Church under the 
species of bread and wine, that it might be the pure Sacrifice 
and acceptable Victim of the law of grace, and also a most 
excellent Sacrament, in which He Himself should be really 
present, and should give us His Body as true meat and His- 
Blood as true drink, in testimony of His love, for the strength¬ 
ening of our hope, the awakening of our memory, as the 
companion of our solitude, our resource in all our necessities 
and tribulations, as a pledge of eternal blessedness, and a con¬ 
firmation of the promises of the New Testament. And now, in 




6 4 


The Sacred Passion. 


that loving Providence with which He provided for His Church, 
being at the outset of His Passion, and so near to His death, 
all His thoughts were directed to provide that this sovereign 
Food should never fail in her until the end of the world. 

Having then accomplished 1 that work of the greatest charity 
and humility—the washing the feet of His disciples, who were 
now all full of suspense and expectation, waiting to see what 
would be the issue of that new ceremony which He had per¬ 
formed—our Saviour, albeit wearied by what He had gone 
through, yet, with great calmness and dignity resuming the 
garments He had laid aside, returned again to the table and sat 
down. And as though a new supper and feast were now about 
to begin, He commanded His disciples to sit down with Him. 
Then, as they were all attentive, He said to them—‘You have 
now well seen what I have done unto you. You call me Master 
and Lord, and you say well, for I am so in truth. If then I, 
being your Master and your Lord, have washed your feet, you 
remain obliged to do one to another any office of charity, 
however difficult and despised it may be. For I have given 
you an example, that as I have done to you so you do also one 
to another. For the servant is not greater than his Lord, neither 
is the Apostle greater than He that sent him. If you know 
these things you shall be blessed if you do them.’ And it is a 
wonderful thing, and veiy worthy of consideration, that our 
Saviour did not let pass any opportunity of disclosing the feeling 
caused in Him by the treason of Judas, and of letting it be 
understood that He was not being drawn on to death by 
treachery, but that He went of His own will; and for this 
cause He added—‘And in that I have said you shall be blessed, 
I do not speak it of you all; I know whom I have chosen, but 
after all the Scripture must be fulfilled, which saith, “He that 
eateth bread with Me shall lift up his heel against Me, and 
betray Me.” I tell you this before it come to pass, that when it 
shall come to pass you may believe that I am He Whom I have 
preached unto you that I am.’ 

Meanwhile, all the Apostles were looking on Him with 
attention and reverence, seeking from His demeanour and His 
1 St. John xiii. i2. 



The Blessed Sacrament. 


65 


countenance that He was about to perform some great and 
unwonted act. Then our Lord, taking in His hands a loaf of 
the unleavened bread which had been left on the table after the 
•supper was over, and considering in mind the great marvel 
which He was about to work in it, in that it was to be a 
memorial of the marvels and mercies of God, 2 He raised His 
eyes to His omnipotent and eternal Father, showing by that 
ceremony that from Him alone proceeds all power and virtue 
to perform such wonderful works. He also gave Him thanks 
(as He alone could worthily do) for all the benefits which He 
had received in His holy Humanity, and particularly for that 
immense benefit which at that time He was about to do to all 
the world. Then He blessed the bread itself with new words 
and especial benediction, and such as prepared the souls of the 
Apostles, and made them intent on the new and special work 
He was about to perform. After this He divided the bread 
with His own hands into the portions required, that they might 
all communicate with Him, and then our Lord consecrated it 
by His words, converting by virtue of them the bread into 
His Body, and by His divine power causing that same Body of 
His, which was present and visible to the eyes of His Apostles, 
to be also really present, although invisible to the eyes of 
the body, hidden and covered, beneath the accidents of the 
bread. And the words with which He consecrated it were the 
•self same words by which He made His Apostles clearly to 
understand what was the food that He then gave them, saying 
—‘Take ye and eat, for this which I give you is My Body; the 
same Body which shall be delivered up for you and placed 
upon the Cross for the salvation of the world.’ Having so 
said, He Himself gave Himself communion before the others, 
receiving His own Body under the species of bread, and then 
He gave to all and to each in particular a portion of that con¬ 
secrated Bread, and they all received it and ate, understanding 
well what it was, for our Saviour Himself had told them in 
plain and manifest words. 

There was also placed upon the table a cup or chalice of 

2 Psalm cx. 4. 

F 



66 


The Sacred Passion. 


wine mixed with a little water, and our Lord, taking it in His 
hands and giving thanks to His Eternal Father, blessed it in 
like manner with especial benediction, and consecrated it by 
His words, converting that wine into His Blood, and, by means 
of His Divine Power, causing the self same Blood which He 
had in His veins to be really present in the chalice under the 
accidents of the wine. And the words "with which He conse¬ 
crated it were the self same words by which He made His 
disciples clearly and distinctly to understand what it was He 
was giving them to drink, saying—‘ Drink ye all of this chalice 
which I give you, for it has in it My Blood, in which the New 
Testament is confirmed, and which shall be shed on the Cross 
for you for the remission of sins/ 

As our Saviour had come into the world to form a new and 
spiritual people, and to establish and ratify with it a new 
covenant and a Testament more excellent by far than the Old 
Testament which had been made with the carnal nation of 
the Jews—for the commandments of this New Testament are 
sweeter and more perfect, and the gifts and promises contained 
in it more illustrious, since they are not of temporal goods but 
of eternal—so also this Testament was confirmed, not with the 
blood of animals like the first, but with the Blood of the Lamb 
without spot, Jesus Christ our Lord, which, being shed upon 
the Cross, was efficacious to do away with the sins of the whole 
world. This Testament was ordained by our Lord in His Last 
Supper, His Apostles being present in the name of the whole 
Church ; and in order that what He then ordained might have 
greater firmness and security, He gave them to drink of His 
Blood, saying—‘Drink ye all of this chalice, for this is My 
Blood of the New Testament, which will be shed for men for 
the remission of sins.’ 

And as, moreover, our Lord designed that the Sacrifice and 
Sacrament which He instituted in this Last Supper should 
endure in His Church unto the end of the world, not only did 
He Himself consecrate the bread and the wine into His Body 
and Blood, but He gave power to His Apostles that they also 
should do the same, and that the same power should be com- 



The Blessed Sacrament. 


67 


municated by means of Bishops to priests legitimately ordained, 
until He should come again as a Judge and as long as the 
world should endure. He moreover expressly commanded that 
whenever they celebrated this Sacrifice they should do it in 
remembrance of Him, and of the love with which He died for 
men, for that for this reason He would remain ever present 
among them, and leave them a legacy so rich as that of His 
Body and Blood, with all the treasures of grace which He had 
merited by His Passion, in order that they might never at 
any time be unmindful of Him; therefore He said to them, 
Hcec quotiescumque feceritis , in Mei memoriam facietis— 1 When¬ 
ever you do this, you shall do it always in remembrance of 
Me.’ 

O admirable Sacrament! O inestimable benefit! O incom¬ 
prehensible love! O bread of Angels and food of Heaven! 
contrived for the sustenance and strengthening of men who are 
on their way as pilgrims through the world, by that wonderful fire 
of love which our Lord manifested in His Passion, with so much 
force and efficacy as to make of men Angels, and of creatures 
of earth children of heaven, transforming them in the love of 
Him Who has loved them so much! O words worthy to be 
received with entire faith, thankfulness, and reverence! That our 
Lord, Who cannot and will not deceive, should say with His own 
mouth— 4 Take and eat, for This is My Body; and drink ye all 
of this chalice, for this is My Blood! ’ O what infinite liberality! 
O gift worthy of God ! What can I, O my Lord, give Thee for 
this benefit, except to say, with all the affection of my heart— 

4 Behold, O Lord, this is my body, which I offer for Thee to 
sufferings, sicknesses, weariness, fatigue, and penance; and this 
is my blood, which from henceforth I offer Thee to be shed, 
if so it be for Thy service, for Thy glory; this is my soul, 
Thy creature, made subject and given up to all that is Thy 
will?’ 

After all these things had been done, our Saviour, seeing 
that His death was so near at hand, and also the hardness of 
heart and the obstinacy of Judas in his evil purpose, and that 
it had not sufficed that He had pointed out his treachery and 

F 2 



68 


The Sacred Passion. 


signified to him in so many and different ways that the secret 
he was endeavouring so much to cover and conceal was mani¬ 
fest to Him, nor again had it been enough for Him to kneel at 
his feet and wash them in order to touch and soften his heart, 
or bring a little shame into his face, but that on the contrary, 
he had with daring wickedness still remained at table amongst 
the other Apostles, and had received with evil conscience the 
Sacrament of the Body and Blood of the Lord; looking upon, 
conversing with, and eating from the same dish with Him Who 
was acquainted with the whole of his iniquity—on this, our 
Lord, seeing near Him a man who was so hardened and so full 
of malice and abominable thoughts, gave place to the feeling 
which as man He might well have for so horrible and abomi¬ 
nable a treason, and He began to be disturbed 3 and troubled in 
• spirit, and spoke once more in solemn affirmation and asseve¬ 
ration — 1 Of a truth I say unto you, one of you is the man who 
shall sell Me.’ And as our Lord named no one, He cast fear 
into the hearts of all, and they looked at one another, doubting 
of whom He spake. For although the conscience of no one 
accused him of that treachery, yet they gave more credit to the 
words of our Lord than to their own thoughts, acknowledging 
with humility that they were men, and that man easily changes 
and may easily fall. 

At that time the Apostle St. John was immediately next 
to our Saviour at the table, and seeing Him disturbed and 
troubled, he, with the confidence which was given him by the 
especial love his Master had ever shown towards him, indulg¬ 
ing his affection for Him, leaned his head upon His sacred 
breast And our Saviour, in that night of sublime mysteries 
and such ineffable Sacraments, amidst all His cares and His 
sorrows, lovingly received St. John on His bosom, finding 
Himself also some rest in the loyal heart and sincere love of 
His Evangelist, and gladly receiving that alleviation of the 
affliction caused Him by the presence of the traitor. 

But the Apostle St. Peter, full of his usual fervour, was 
very anxious to discover the enemy, in order to tear him to 
3 St. John xiii. 21. 



Judas and the sop . 


69 


pieces, if he could, with his own hands. But not venturing to 
put the question himself, and yet his heart urging him not to 
leave untried any kind of diligence in such a matter; seeing, 
moreover, the especial favour manifested by our Saviour to 
St. John in presence of all the other disciples, and the oppor¬ 
tunity which he therefore had to find out the matter without 
causing any tumult and with the secrecy which was meet, he 
beckoned to him, 4 making signs from the place where he was 
seated, that he should ask of our Saviour, who he was of whom 
He had spoken? Then St. John, as he was reclining on the 
bosom of Jesus, asked Him, with all confidence, to tell him 
who it was. And our Saviour answered, as it seems with a 
low voice, so as to be heard by St. John alone—‘He it is to 
whom I shall give the bread dipped.’ And immediately taking 
a piece of bread, and dipping it in some sauce or stew which 
was left on the table, t He gave it to Judas. This action was 
to St. John a mark and sign by which he might know the 
traitor, and to Judas it was a particular distinction and favour 
bestowed upon him for the purpose of touching his heart and 
forcing him, if he were not incorrigibly obdurate, to change his 
evil intentions. 

But the wretched man, from his own fault and evil disposi¬ 
tion, always grew worse by the remedies which were used for 
his salvation, and thus, with the morsel given to him by our 
Saviour, 5 Satan entered into his soul. He had before entered 
there to prompt him to bargain for and settle for the sale of 
his Master to the Jews, and now he took possession of him with 
greater power, instigating him to go at once and execute his 
bargain. Then our Saviour, seeing that he was so blinded and 
so deluded, said to him with His accustomed calmness and 
gentleness—‘That which thou hast to do, do quickly.’ Now 
none of those who were at table understood for what purpose 
our Saviour said these words, but some thought that as Judas 
kept the purse in which were the common funds, our Saviour 
was desirous of telling him to go and purchase something that 
was necessary for the Pasch, or that he should give some alms 
4 St. John xiii. 24. 5 Ibid. 27. 



70 


The Sacred Passion. 


to the poor, as was His custom. But in truth our Saviour spoke 
to the thoughts of His heart, and therefore He said—‘What thou 
doest, do quickly.’ Not that He thereby gave consent to, or 
instigated him to put in execution, so great a wickedness— 
rather He reproved him for it to his face, letting him see that 
He knew what was in his heart—but that for His own part He 
did not intend to obstruct his course or disturb his designs, but 
rather permitted them and gave place to his malice, and that 
in His infinite charity He had greater desire to suffer death 
than Judas in his incredible wickedness had to sell Him that 
He might be put to death. So as soon as Judas had eaten the 
morsel and heard those words, impelled by infernal furies, he 
went out of the chamber and the house where our Saviour was, 
never to return to His company any more. And when Judas 
went out, it was already night. 0 


St. John xiii. 30. 



CHAPTER V. 


Our Saviour takes leave of His most Holy Mother before 
going to His Passion. 

It is certain that the Blessed Virgin was not ignorant of the 
cause for which the Son of God had been made man in her 
womb—that is, in order to redeem the human race by most 
bitter torments, by the shedding of His Blood, and by His 
death upon the Cross. She had known this first through reading 
and meditating upon the Sacred Scriptures, even before her Son 
had become incarnate. She learnt it a second time through the 
prophecy delivered by the aged Simeon when she presented her 
Son in the Temple. Thirdly, she knew it from the frequent 
communication which she held with her Son on this point; for 
if our Lord so often warned His disciples respecting it, He 
must have much more frequently given His Mother information 
•concerning it. Indeed, there is much for us to ponder in those 
long and retired conversations which He had with His Mother, 
giving her understanding and light as to the Holy Scriptures, 
and showing her by all of them that it was meet that Christ 
should suffer in order to enter into His glory. For if our 
Saviour spoke to His disciples again and again of His Passion, 
how much more and better, and more in particular, must He 
have given an account of it to His Mother, in order to console 
Himself and relieve Himself with her? For, as for the disciples, 
as they did not understand the mystery, 1 our Lord could find 
little relief in talking with them about it. When He discovered 
it to them for the first time, they tried to persuade Him that it 
was not for Him, as St. Peter did. 2 When He again spoke to 
them of His Passion, as they had lost the hope of diverting 
1 St. Luke xviii. 34 2 St. Matt. xvi. 22. 


72 


The Sacred Passion. 


Him from it, and saw that our Saviour was in truth in this way 
to suffer , 3 they became sad and full of fear. Afterwards, at the 
time of the Prayer in the Garden, though they had been so 
often warned and told beforehand, and though they saw their 
Master in so much agony, and that He came to them for some 
consolation, they were weighed down with sleep and dismay. 
Thus our Lord always found trouble with them : at one time 
He had to restrain their indiscreet zeal by reproof, at another 
to animate their weakness by consolation, at another to exhort 
them and to instruct them and to arm them against temptation. 
And if, with ail this, our Lord went on continually communica¬ 
ting His sorrow to them and seeking consolation where He 
found so little thereof, how often must we not believe that He 
conversed about this matter with His Mother! How would 
He relieve and repose Himself with her, giving an account of 
His cares and anxieties ! How would He relate to her the 
calumnies, the envy, the hatred, and the persecutions of the 
Jews ! How minutely would He give her an account of the 
end in which that storm and tempest would issue, and how at 
last He would be overwhelmed by its billows ! 4 We cannot 
doubt that He discoursed many times and at great leisure with 
His Mother about these things, easing His Heart and consoling 
Himself with her, who profoundly understood that mystery, who 
accepted it with such entire conformity to God’s will, offered it 
up "with so much devotion, and felt it with so much ineffable 
tenderness, and, in short, had her heart so perfectly alike to 
and united with the Heart of her Son. 

From all that has been said, we cannot but believe that our, 
Blessed Lady meditated very frequently, and as it were , con¬ 
tinually, on the Passion, seeing that both her love and her 
sorrow led her thoughts to this. For must she not have always 
been full of grief when she thought of the Passion of her Son, 
and felt by her own experience what Simeon had prophesied, 
that a sword was to pierce her own soul ? 5 Whenever she saw and 
gazed upon the Body of her beloved Son, there occurred to her 
mind the torments He was to suffer in each one of His limbs,, 
3 St. Mark x. 32. 4 Psalm lxviii. 3. 5 St. Luke ii. 35. 



Our Lady at the Cenacle. 


73 


she considered His sacred head and the thorns, His face and 
the buffets, His shoulders and the scourges, His feet and hands 
pierced with nails, His side with the lance. And whenever she 
embraced Him, she also embraced in her own heart all these 
pains and insults, saying, ‘A bundle of myrrh is my Beloved to 
me; He shall abide between my breasts .’ 6 

Hence sprang up in the soul of the Blessed Virgin very great 
wonder and the most ardent love; for, by the light communi¬ 
cated to her by the Holy Ghost, she well understood the 
sublimity of the majesty of God, the insignificance and vileness 
of'men, as well as the bitterness of the torments He was to 
suffer for them; and comparing these things together, she saw 
the greatness of the charity of God and the inestimable benefit 
which was being bestowed on the whole human race, and the 
excellent share which she had in that benefit. And corres¬ 
ponding to that knowledge there were in her chaste and humble 
heart the profoundest thankfulness and the most fervent love of 
God, and also an equally great and burning charity for men 
themselves, whom she saw that God so greatly esteemed that 
to heal them He was to deliver His own Son to so bitter and 
ignominious a death. And hence there was born in her that most 
tender mercy and pity towards miserable sinners which are in 
her heart, so that she yearned to devote herself entirely as far as 
was possible in remedying their -woes. And hereupon we ought 
to found our hope that she will never weary of interceding for 
us, since in labouring for our weal she does that for which her 
Son came into the world, and thereby reaps the price of our 
redemption and the Blood which He shed for us. 

The Blessed Virgin being thus provided with such clear 
intelligence and such profound and continual meditation upon 
the Passion of her Son, and knowing for certain that that was 
the night in which He would be delivered up to death, came 
after Him to Jerusalem, and with the other holy women who* 
usually accompanied her, repaired to the self same house in 
which our Saviour was to celebrate the Pasch. And although, 
as we ought to think, she remained in a different chamber from. 

6 Cant. i. 12. 



74 


The Sacred Passion. 


that in which her Son was with His Apostles, still she followed 
minutely and knew from moment to moment all that our 
Saviour did, said, and ordained. She, with her exceeding love 
and humility, prepared the supper, as she had done many times 
before, nor did she disdain any office how humble soever, 
knowing that her Son was occupied in washing with His own 
hands the feet of His Apostles. Then she also understood 
how He had given them to eat His Body and to drink of His 
Blood, under the accidents of bread and wine, and had insti¬ 
tuted this Divine Sacrament to endure perpetually in the 
Church; and as she was more deeply pierced than any other 
created being with the love of her Son, and more illuminated 
than any by the Divine Spirit, she had more light to understand 
better than all the sublimity of the mystery, to estimate the 
immensity of the benefit, and to give more heartfelt thanks for 
this consolation and companionship which remained to her in 
the absence of her Son and during the time of her pilgrimage. 
There, in fine, she remained and heard, as far as might be, that 
long discourse and sermon in which her Son took leave of His 
Apostles, waiting for the end of that most loving leavetaking 
to come. 

The discourse being ended, 7 our Saviour rose with great 
resolution and His disciples with Him, and then they all gave 
thanks and sang praises to God. It would seem that they said 
'some prayer or canticle which was commonly used as a thanks¬ 
giving after eating, to which the Evangelist alludes when he 
says, Et hymno dicto. And if this hymn which it was customary 
to sing was, as some imagine, seven entire Psalms, from the 
112th, which begins Laudaie , pueri Dominum , to the 118th, 
which begins Beati immaculati in via , we may gather from this 
how careful our Saviour was to give thanks to His Eternal 
Father for every benefit of whatever kind given in a night of so 
many cares and so much trouble. He nevertheless offered 
thanks after His Last Supper so leisurely and by way of chant¬ 
ing, giving us an example of thankfulness, and fulfilling that 
which God commanded in the Law, 8 Cum comederis et satiatus 
7 St. Matt. xxvi. 30. 8 Dent viii. 10. 



Otir Lord's Farewell. 


75 


Jueris , benedicas Domino Deo tuo pro terra optima quam dedit 
tibi— 4 When thou hast eaten and art full, thou shalt bless the 
Lord thy God for the abundant favours and excellent food 
which He hath given thee.’ 

The Blessed Virgin, then, seeing that her Son had risen, 
retired into the most secret part of her chamber to await the 
last embrace and farewell which was about to cost her so much 
grief. And soon she saw Him enter with His accustomed 
•calmness and modesty, His face flushed with the work He had 
performed in the washing of the feet, and the long discourse 
which He had delivered after the Supper, and much more with 
the great fervour of His burning charity, and approaching her 
with the love and reverence due from such a Son to His 
Mother, 4 Lady,’ He said, 4 1 come not to tell thee of things of 
which thou art ignorant, but to take leave of thee for the 
purpose of which thou knowest. Many times have I relieved 
Myself in discoursing of it with thee; give thanks to God, 
Lady, that it has fallen to thy good lot to have a Son Who has 
to die, for justice, indeed, but the justice of God which He has 
to satisfy, and to justify men and reconcile them with God. 
Be consoled, Lady, for the fruit is great and the tempest short, 
and very soon I will visit thee again full of immortality and 
glory. In doing what I have to do today, I fulfil the com¬ 
mandment of My Father and accomplish His most holy will. 
The comfort that I desire to take with Me will be to know 
that thou wilt not be left alone, and since time presses, give to 
me, Lady, thy farewell, thy hand, and thy blessing.’ 

Oh, how peaceful were the tears which then flowed down 
the face of the Blessed Virgin! how great the grief which 
pierced her heart, and yet how constant and determined was 
she to obey and conform herself to what God disposed ! What 
burning charity to offer her Son, Whom she so tenderly loved, 
for the glory of God and the salvation of men! 4 May Thy 

Father give to. Thee, my Son,’ the Virgin would have answered, 

4 His benediction from heaven,’ and she would then add— 

4 Behold the handmaid of the Lord ! be it done unto me 
according to His will.’ Our Lord would weep also, since He 



The Sacred Passion. 


7 6 


afflicted Himself and wept on seeing Mary Magdalene weep at 
the death of Lazarus her brother. And then, both unable to 
speak from the intensity of their feeling, they must have taken 
that last farewell, folded in one another’s arms and each 
saluting the other with due love in silence. And then the Son 
would tear Himself away from His Mother, and she would 
follow Him with her eyes till she lost sight of Him. And we 
must esteem most highly, and be most grateful, and own 
ourselves deeply obliged for, that love wherewith the Blessed 
Virgin gave her Son to suffer and die for us. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Our Saviour goes to the Garden and tells His Disciples of 
His sorrow. 

Our Lord having taken leave of His Mother, rejoined His 
disciples, who were waiting for Him, and then accompanied 
and surrounded by them He left the house where He had 
supped, and departed from that unhappy city which had rejected 
Him, abandoning the ungrateful and repudiated Synagogue, 
leaving it to the eternal night and blindness in which it still 
remains. He took his way to the Mount of Olives on the other 
side of the brook Cedron, whither at other times He had been 
wont to resort at night to pray. 1 And whilst He was on His 
road thither, looking upon His disciples, He said, ‘All you 
shall be scandalized this night, and you shall fly from Me and 
forsake Me when you shall see what shall come to pass.’ Our 
Saviour said this to them according to His wont, speaking 
according to the present time and occasion of what was most 
painful to His Heart, and showing that He knew and understood, 

1 St. Luke xxii. 39. 




Warning of Scandal\ 


77 


as Son of God, 2 what was to happen to Himself and to them, 
.and that He went to death of His own will, not perforce, not 
sin ignorance, not deceived by any snare; and also to give 
them good courage to come back to Him after they had left 
Him, in confidence and security that He would pardon them 
that weakness, as He Himself had known of it before it came 
to pass, and being full of love for them had foretold it to them. 

4 For/ said He, ‘this your scandal and fall will not be new to 
Me, since so it was to be, and many years ago it had been 
prophesied by Zacharias, 3 “ I will strike the Shepherd,” that is, 
I will deliver My Son to death, “and the sheep shall be scat¬ 
tered,” for you will take to flight and be dispersed. Nevertheless 
two things may console you and animate your courage; first, 
that I shall rise again the third day after My death, and secondly, 
that when I am risen I will go before you into Galilee, and 
there you shall see Me and rejoice and take courage at the sight.’ 

Twice before our Saviour left the house He had, during the 
discourse which He delivered after the supper, reproved St. 
Peter for his excessive fervour. For, trusting in himself more 
than he ought, he had boasted before the other Apostles that 
he would let himself be imprisoned and die rather than forsake 
his Master, and, as it appears, he was still going on in the same 
state of bravery and strong feeling, and had armed himself with 
his sword if it should be necessary for defence. When therefore 
he saw that our Saviour had spoken generally of them all, 
saying, ‘All you shall be scandalized in Me/ 4 not considering 
that He Who spoke was the Truth, or how weak he himself was, 
he exempted himself from that general statement, saying, ‘though 
all shall be shaken or scandalized, yet I will never be scanda¬ 
lized.’ Peter spoke what he felt in his heart at the time; but as 
he sought to make himself singular among all, our Lord directed 
His reply especially to him, warning him he had no ground to 
presume on his own vain confidence, nor to doubt the truth of 
His prediction, which would most certainly prove accurate, and 
would be so soon accomplished, that 5 before the cock crew 

2 St. August. De Consens. Evang. 1 . iii. c. 2. 3 Zach. xiii. 3. 

4 St. Matt. xxvi. 31. 5 St. Mark xiv. 30. 



78 


The Sacred Passion. 


twice that self same night, Peter would deny him thrice. Not¬ 
withstanding all this, St. Peter would not receive with humility 
the prophecy of our Lord, and it seemed to him that he would 
be denying his Master at once if he did not declare his reso¬ 
lution and determination to follow and to confess Him, and so 
he said, 6 ‘ Think not, Lord, that my love for Thee is so weak 
as to be disturbed by seeing Thee delivered up to death, for if 
it were necessary to die with Thee and in Thy company I 
would gladly do it, so as not to deny Thee.’ And all the 
other Apostles made the same offer and boasted in like manner. 

Discoursing together thus, they went forth from the city and 
descended into the profound and sombre valley which was 
therefore named the valley of Cedron, 7 in the deepest hollow of 
which flowed a stream that took its name from the place and 
was called s the brook of Cedron. On the other side of this- 
brook, on the left hand, on the slope of the Mount of Olives,, 
was the Garden which was called Gethsemani, whither, on 
account of its being so lonely and remote, our Saviour was 
often accustomed to resort in order to pray. Although in 
passing through the valley and over the brook the disciples 
strove to be of good courage, yet we may well believe that they 
were greatly troubled and afraid, for the valley was deep and 
dark, and, on account of the thickness of the trees as well as the 
steepness of the rocks and the hollows of the mountain, the 
silence and loneliness of the place were very great. The night 
was dark and close, and a considerable space of time must 
have elapsed since Judas left the supper room, 9 and even when 
he went out it was already night, and all the discourse that 
evening had been announcements of treasons, dishonours, 
torments, and death. What effect could all this, in the midst 
of that solitude and obscurity, have had on the hearts of those 
few weak and unarmed men ? 

Having arrived at the entrance of the farm or Garden of 
Gethsemani, 10 our Lord commanded eight of His disciples to 
remain there, while He went further in to pray, charging them 

6 St. Matt. xxvi. 35. 7 4 Kings xxiii. 4. 8 Jer. xxxi. 40. 

9 St. John xiii. 30. 10 St. Matt. xxvi. 36. 



Our Lord's Sorrow. 


79 


at the same time to watch and pray lest they should be con¬ 
quered by temptation. 11 And then taking with him the three 
disciples whom He especially loved, He withdrew with them 12 
farther into the interior of the Garden. There He began to feel 
what was quite new to Him, an unaccustomed fear and failing of 
heart, together with a profound sadness which obliged Him to 
disclose it to the three disciples. And He said to them — 1 My 
soul is sorrowful even unto death; ’ which was as though He 
had said, ‘ So great is the sorrow which My soul feels, that it 
alone would be sufficient to cause its death.’ And in order to 
show the force of this feeling, the Evangelists explain it by 
different names, calling it sadness, which is a feeling caused 13 
by the apprehension of some present evil, and also fear, dread, 
or amazement, 14 which proceed from evil which is anticipated. 
Both the one and the other, the sorrow with the fear and the 
fear with the sorrow, like two heavy weights, oppressed the 
Heart of our Lord to such a degree as to cause that mortal 
anguish which the Evangelist designates by the term of heavi¬ 
ness, when he says —Ccefiitpovere et feedere}^ 

Our Lord had many causes for anguish and grief shut up in. 
His heart, which He had suffered during the whole of His 
life, and at this time, on account of new motives, they pressed. 
upon Him more heavily than ever, and showed themselves in 
many different ways. For though it be true that that most holy 
Soul of His, from the first moment that it was created, enjoyed 
the clear vision of God, and the ordinary law for one who sees 
God is that he cannot suffer any pain at all, but that both in 
body and soul he enjoys glory and blessedness; yet in order, 
that it might be possible for us to be redeemed by the precious 
travail of our Lord, it was ordained that His beatitude and His 
joy should be confined to the superior portion of His Soul, 
and should not overflow to the lower part or to the body, oun 
Lord thus renouncing the blessedness which was His right in 
order to accept the pains and sufferings which we owed to God. 
Hence came not only the sufferings of His sacred Body, but 

11 St. Luke xxii. 40. 12 St. Matt. xxvi. 37. 13 Ibid. 

14 St. Mark xiv. 33. 15 Ibid. 



8o 


The Sacred Passion. 


also the sorrows and anguish of His most blessed Soul, showing 
in all that He w r as very man, and giving place to those feelings 
and affections in which there is no sin, though in it He had 
been only man. Thus, as it was no disgrace to our Saviour to 
suffer hunger and thirst and weariness and other fatigues in 
His Body, so also was it no disgrace for Him to suffer grief, 
fear, and heaviness in His Soul. Both the one and the other 
He suffered voluntarily, and if He had so willed it He might 
have prevented them. But though He suffered voluntarily, and 
might if - He had chosen have hindered it, yet He did not 
therefore the less show by suffering that He was very Man, 
and had the same natural dispositions as other men. Thus 
if a man who was suffering great pain in his head or his 
stomach had at the same time at hand a remedy so effica¬ 
cious that it would be infallibly certain that he would be rid of 
the pain immediately he applied it, we should say of him that 
if he suffered, he suffered voluntarily, and yet all the same he 
would show by suffering that pain that he was a man weak as 
others, and subject like them to pain. In the same way we may 
reason as to our Lord, that although He had power by virtue 
of His Divinity and by reason of His vision of God, to hinder 
the sufferings of His Body and the sorrows of His Soul, yet 
since He did not choose to prevent them, the same natural 
causes which affected other men naturally produced in His 
Soul anguish, and in His Body pain. And thus, on the one 
hand, our Saviour suffered voluntarily, because being able to 
prevent His Passion He did not do so, and, on the other hand, 
He showed that He was truly man, because, granted that He 
did not choose to impede suffering, there were such strong 
reasons for His suffering that He suffered naturally, and that 
His Humanity by itself could not avoid it. And this, perhaps, 
was the desertion of which He complained when on the Cross 
He cried out, ‘My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken 
Me?’ 16 

And this was one and the principal of the causes for which 
‘our Saviour chose not only to suffer pain in His Body, but also 
16 St. Matt, xxvii. 46. 



Our Lord's Condescension. 


81 


sorrow and anguish in His Soul, to show that He was very Man, 
of the same nature as ourselves, and that He was most vividly 
sensible of torments and outrages; also that neither was He 
endowed with an impassible Body, nor was He of stone or of 
brass, as Job says. 17 This, moreover, was of use for our conso¬ 
lation in the midst of suffering and anguish—that when any of 
the saints and friends of God should feel repugnance to these, 
they might not therefore be discouraged and imagine that they 
had lost the grace of God. For such feelings as these are not 
so much sins, as signs of the weakness natural to man, and this 
weakness our Lord chose to take on Himself, making Himself 
therein like unto us, that we might endeavour to make our¬ 
selves like unto Him in His fortitude and conformity to the 
divine will. For without doubt greater constancy is shown, not 
where the troubles are greatest, but where the feelings are most 
lively: Nec enirn habent fortitudinis laudein qui stuporem magis 
vulnerum tolerant qua?n dolorem. Those ought not to be praised 
as valiant, says St. Ambrose, 1S whose wounds make them 
insensible to pain, but those rather who feel their pain the 
most keenly. Our Saviour also desired to have part not only in 
the sufferings of the body, but also in the sorrows of the soul, 
in order that as far as He participated in our miseries, He 
might in return communicate to us in like degree His own 
goods. 19 Suscepit enim trisiitiam meam , ut mihi suam Icetitiam 
largiretur , et vestigiis nostris descendit usque ad mortis eerumnam , 
ut nos suis vestigiis revocaret ad vitam. Debuit ergo et dolorem 
suscipere , ut vinceret trisiitiam, non excluder et — 4 He took upon 
Him,’ says the same Saint, ‘my sorrows that He might give me 
His joys; .and treading in our footprints, He went down so low 
as the pain of death itself, in order that we might tread in His 
footprints and so regain life. Therefore it was fitting that He 
should feel sorrow also, that He might conquer sadness rather 
than not allow it to approach Him.’ Our Saviour had, more¬ 
over, to take on Himself the bitter medicine of our infirmities, 
that we might be cured of them, and to chastise on Himself 
our disorders, and perform penance for our sins, in order that 

17 Job vi. 12. 18 In cap. Luc. xii. 19 St. Ambrose, ibid. 

G 



82 


The Sacred Passion. 


we might receive their forgiveness. And as He cured our pride 
and made satisfaction for it by the insults which He suffered, 
and our gluttony by His vinegar and gall, and our pleasures 
by His pains, so in like manner He chose to heal and to 
chastise by His own sadness the sins which we commit by 
interior delights. 

For all these causes, therefore, and for others which we do 
not now touch upon, our merciful Lord and loving Saviour was 
not only content to suffer strokes upon His shoulders, buffets 
on His face, thorns on His head, and nails in His hands and 
feet, but also sorrow and agony in His most blessed Heart. 
And as He gave permission and power to the ministers of dark¬ 
ness (for without that they could have done nothing) to put 
Him to these bitter torments, so He also gave permission to 
that anguish to work upon His Heart as the present occasion, 
and the motives which He had for it, required. 




CHAPTER VII. 

The Causes of the Sorrow which our Saviour endured. 

Great, without doubt, were the causes which our Saviour had 
for sorrow, since, it being settled that He would not prevent 
them, but let them work on Him as much as they could, the 
effect which they had, and the impression which they produced 
on His Heart, were so great, that our Lord Himself could say 
that they had brought Him to the point of death. 

For, in the first place, He felt the travail and fatigue He 
had undergone that day, during which He had come from 
Bethany to Jerusalem, and had celebrated with His disciples 
the Pasch and the legal Supper at which the lamb was eaten, 
and had washed their feet, giving thereby an example of the 
most profound humility, and of the most refined love. He had, 
moreover, instituted the Blessed Sacrament, and communicated 
them all with His own hands. He had afterwards delivered a 
long discourse and address, in which He had shed forth all the 
treasures of His charity, endeavouring by all possible means to 
console and encourage them, calling them little children, My 
friends, My chosen, the companions of My travails and temp¬ 
tations; more closely united and incorporated with Me than 
the branches with the vine. He told them that the troubles 
would be short and the joy great, that the Comforter, Teacher, 
and Advocate, Whom He was to send to them that He might 
remain with them always, would be no less a Person than the 
Holy Spirit Himself; that He Himself was to go before them 
in the fight and to receive their wounds in His own body, and 
that with this help they would obtain a glorious victory over the 
world; finally, that He was returning to His Father, and that 
this was so great a blessing, that if they loved Him and desired 
G 2 


8 4 


The Sacred Passion. 


His welfare, they would feel and show great joy thereat, and 
especially that He was going to prepare a place for them, and 
that He would come again and place them in the heavenly 
mansions. Throughout the whole of His discourse He showed 
Himself forgetful of Himself and full of care for them, hiding 
His own trouble in order not to increase theirs and oppress 
their weakness with the weight of such great tribulation, thus 
discharging the office of His great and heartfelt charity. 

He had also suffered Judas to be near Himself at the table 
and to eat with Him out of the same dish. He had fought 
with the hardness of his heart, now with words which had a 
hidden meaning, now with others which were clearer and more 
manifest, now w T ith acts and demonstrations of particular favour 
and Love, without being able to overcome or make the least 
impression upon him. And all this gave Him the great pain 
which the presence of enemies and traitors naturally produces, 
and therefore at various times and in different ways that night 
He declared what He felt, until the time when He showed it 
externally by His grief and perturbation of spirit. 

He had, also, parted with infinite tenderness and sorrow from 
His most holy Mother, and the sympathetic pain which she felt 
had pierced His Heart with anguish; and in all these things He 
had taken care to restrain Himself and to bear up against His 
sufferings, and to hide what was passing within Him, that He 
might console His disciples and fulfil the obligations of that 
last Supper. But, as sorrow that is kept in does more violence 
to the heart, and naturally seeks some vent by which to obtain 
a little relief and comfort, so when our Lord found Himself in 
the solitude of the Garden, and no longer obliged to keep up 
appearances before the eight disciples whom He had left at the 
entrance, He allowed His sorrow to declare itself, and let His 
Heart seek relief and pleasure in the love and loyalty of the 
Apostles who were more especially dear to Him; therefore He 
disclosed what He felt to them, saying — 1 My soul is exceeding 
sorrowful, even unto death.’ . 

Again, a consideration of no less grief to our Lord was to 
see the hatred and ill will of His enemies, which had made 



Causes of Sorrow. 


85 


them not only contrive His death but seek so many oppor¬ 
tunities and invent so many ways and devices of injury and 
torments for Him, and of treating Him in the midst of His 
anguish with so much contempt and derision. For this was to 
behave like people who had gained their point and triumphed 
over Him as fallen and abandoned by God, and who said of 
Him what had been prophesied in His name in the Psalms 1 — 
Deus dereliquit eum , persequimini et comprehendite eum , quia non 
est qui eripiat —‘God hath forsaken Him, pursue and take Him, 
for there is none to deliver Him.’ This feeling of seeing 
Himself overcome by His enemies, and that the time had come 
in which they were to have their way, and put in execution all 
their hatred upon Him, was represented by our Saviour to His 
Eternal Father, calling Him to His aid, when He exclaimed, 2 
Vide Domine , afflictionem meam , quoniam erectus est inimicus — 
‘ Behold, O Lord, My affliction, because the enemy is lifted 
up.’ And if to hear a lion or a bull roar inspires even those 
who are in safety with fear and terror, imagining what the 
strength of the animal would do if it might, how much 
greater fear and horror must it have caused to our Saviour 
to see Himself surrounded by wild beasts who were at such 
full and free liberty to rush upon Him according to their own 
pleasure? For, of a truth, it was His own favoured people 
who turned against Him like a lion on this occasion, as the 
Prophet had signified when he said, 3 Facta est mihi hcereditas 
mea quasi leo in silva; dedit contra me vocem , etc.—'‘My inherit¬ 
ance is become to Me as a lion in the wood, it hath cried out 
against Me,’ etc. Of this hatred and evil will of the princes 
and the chiefs among the people that prophecy also of the 
Psalms had been made, 4 Circumdederunt me vitidi multi , tauri 
pingues obsederunU me, aperuerunt super me os suum, sicut leo 
rapiens et rugiens —‘ Many calves have surrounded Me, fat 
bulls have besieged Me, they have opened their mouths against 
Me as a lion ravening and roaring.’ For our Saviour knew 
clearly and distinctly beforehand the evil will of His enemies 
who were to be His judges, and all the plots they had made, 
1 Psalm lxx. 11. 2 Lament, i. 9. 3 Jer. xii. 8. 4 Psalm xxi. 13. 



86 


The Sacred Passion. 


and the councils which they had held for His condemnation: 
and the Holy Spirit had taken care to ponder them, as what 
would very especially cause Him pain and sorrow, many years 
before by the mouth of the Prophet, when He said, 6 Tu autem 
demonstrasti mihi , et cognovi; tunc ostendisti mihi studia eorum , 
et ego quasi agnus mansuetus , qui portatur ad victimam —‘ But 
Thou, O Lord, hast shown Me and I have known : then Thou 
showedst Me their doings, and I was as a meek lamb that is 
carried to be a victim.’ 

Our Saviour likewise knew that being surrounded by such 
enemies as these, without being able to take flight or escape, 
He would also be forsaken by His friends and acquaintances, 
without having any one to look on Him and take His part in 
the midst of all these calumnies, or be His defender under so 
many accusations, or strive to save His life, or grieve over His 
death. It was of this He complained when He said, 6 Consider- 
abam ad dexter am, et videbam , et non erat qui cognosceret me , 
periit fuga a me, et non est qui requirat animam meam —‘ I 
looked on My right hand, and beheld, and there was no one 
who would know Me. Flight hath failed Me, and there is 
no one that hath regard for My Soul.’ How great was the 
sorrow and agony which His most Sacred Heart suffered from 
the desertion of His friends and the violence of His enemies, 
He Himself had declared in the Psalm where He says, 7 Sicut 
aqua effusus sum , et dispersa sunt omnia ossa mea, factum est cor 
meum tanquam cera liquesce?is in medio ventris mei — 1 1 am poured 
out like water, and all My bones are scattered. My Heart is 
become like wax melting in the midst of My bowels.’ 

Above all, that which occasioned Him supreme sorrow was 
the death which He had present and so near at hand—a death 
so painful and ignominious, and so vividly imprinted on His 
mind. For all the torments He had to undergo were distinctly 
and particularly represented to Him, and His most exquisite 
imagination apprehended most perfectly those most cruel suffer¬ 
ings which were being prepared for that most delicate of bodies. 
The imagination is often wont to afflict and affright more than 
5 Jer. xi. 18, 19. 6 Psalm cxli. 5. 7 Ibid. xxi. 15. 



Anticipation of Suffering. 


87 


death itself, and on this account those who are condemned to 
die are frequently blindfolded, that they may not see the instru¬ 
ments by which their life is to be taken away, and we endeavour 
by various devices and reasons to prevent their imagination 
from dwelling on that thought, practising this kind of mercy 
towards them because we judge that it is not so painful to 
receive death as to expect and fear it. But our Saviour, Who, 
through love towards us, did not seek for any alleviation in His 
. sufferings, made His advances towards so cruel a death face to 
face, and chose not only to suffer in His Body, but that the 
waters of tribulation should also enter into the very interior of 
His Soul, as it is written : 8 Quoniam intraverunt aquce usque ad 
animam meam — c The waters are come in even unto My Soul.’ 
For this cause He gave His thoughts course, and began to 
think over the course and progress of His Passion and all the 
circumstances thereof, as of a thing that He had present to the 
eyes of His understanding, and the execution of which was near 
at hand. He saw with how much passion those unjust judges, 
.under colour of justice, were about to seize Him Who was 
Justice itself, with how much haughtiness those miserable 
worms would treat the King of all the world, and with how 
great daring the slaves of sin would bind the Lord of true 
freedom. He considered with how much noise and with what 
dishonour they would take Him unto the house of the Chief 
Priest through the streets of Jerusalem, where He had worked 
so many marvels, and how the priests, blinded with avarice and 
ambition, would seek out witnesses to give false testimony 
• against Him. Moreover, He represented to Himself how they 
would command their servants to spit on Him and to mock Him 
- and to buffet Him, and how the miserable sons of wrath would 
satisfy their own wrath in shamefully striking the Lord of Majesty. 

He saw how He would be delivered up to Pilate and to the 
Gentiles, and how the Governor, through vain regard to the 
world, would pass Him on to Herod, how He would be scoffed 
at and treated as a fool by his courtiers, and how, when He 
\was brought back to Pilate, He would be scourged and delivered 
8 Psalm lxviii. 1. 




88 


The Sacred Passion. 


up to the soldiers and men of war, that with scorn and insults 
and mockery they might crown with thorns the true King of 
all. And going on further in thought, He saw how they would 
take Him as a condemned criminal from the house of Pilate,, 
with public proclamation and with the Cross on His shoulders, 
and how, amidst such a multitude of people gathered together 
to ’witness this spectacle, He would meet with the holy women 
who had followed Him and done Him service in supporting 
Him, and that amongst them He would behold His afflicted 
Mother. And it could not be but that this thought should 
overcome Him, and that He should be pierced through and 
through with sadness and sorrow of heart. 

Moreover, going on in thought to Mount Calvary, He 
beheld the manner in which He was to be crucified, and how 
those ministers of justice and cruel executioners w*ould raise 
Him naked upon the Cross, in the sight of God and of the 
wfflole Court of Heaven, and before the eyes of His Blessed 
Mother, and in the sight of all the world, between two male¬ 
factors. Then He represented to Himself the internal pain in 
which for three hours He would remain suspended upon the 
Cross, forsaken by His friends and insulted by His enemies, and 
how at last, in the sight of His Eternal Father, and in presence 
of His holy Mother, He would breathe His last in torment 

The lively representation of a death attended with such 
circumstances of ignominy and pain produced so intense a 
feeling in His Heart that He began to tremble and fear at the 
apprehension of it. His Heart began to be discouraged and 
melt like wax through the force of His sorrow : Ceepii pavere et 
tcedere, 9 contristari et mcestus esse 10 — 1 He began to fear and be 
heavy,’ and Ho grow sorrowful and to be sad.’ Then betaking 
Himself to His three beloved disciples, that He might relieve 
Himself with them, He said— 4 My soul is sorrowful even unto 
death; I feel anguish and sorrow also unto death; I feel pains 
and agonies sufficient to inflict death. Stay you here a little, I 
pray you, abide with Me, and watch and be vigilant, and bear 
Me company in this My bitter strait.’ 

9 St. Mark xiv. 33. 10 St. Matt. xxvi. 37. 



CHAPTER VIII. 


Of other more secret causes of our Saviour s Sorrow . 

Although the causes of which we have spoken occasioned our 
Saviour extreme sorrow and suffering, they did not have the 
effect of making Him the less readily offer Himself to death,, 
through obedience to the Father and for the salvation of men, 
even as He had offered Himself from the first moment of His con¬ 
ception. Nevertheless, beholding the load which He was going 
to take upon His shoulders, He began to be in an agony 1 and 
persevered in lengthening out His prayer, until from simple 
anguish He began to sweat blood from His veins. For the 
business which He had undertaken of making peace between 
heaven and earth, of reconciling men with God, of paying for 
the sins of the whole world, of satisfying the justice of God and 
making His mercy propitious to us, of triumphing over the 
devil, despoiling hell and opening a new way for us to the door 
of heaven, was one of such weighty moment and anxiety,, 
that it oppressed the loving Heart of our Saviour with greater 
agony than even the torments and ignominy which He was to 
suffer externally, and hence we may gather what were some of 
the more secret motives and causes of the horror and agony 
which our Saviour experienced in His prayer. 

The first cause was the greatness of His love, for His grief 
was in proportion to His love, and as it is impossible to com¬ 
prehend altogether the height of His love, as just as little can 
we conceive the depth of His sorrow. 2 For so it was, that that 
most sacred soul, on its creation and infusion into His body 
in the virginal womb of our Blessed Lady, beheld instantly the 
Divine Essence as clearly as He does now, and on beholding 
1 St. Luke xxii. 43. 2 M. Avila, Audifilia , 79. 


90 


The Sacred Passion. 


It judged how worthy It was of the utmost honour and service, 
and desired to pay It such, with ineffable forces of love which 
had been bestowed upon Him wherewith to love God. But at 
the same time He beheld all the offences which men had 
committed against God since the beginning, and those which 
they were to commit until the end of the world, and on this His 
grief at seeing the Divine Majesty outraged was as great as His 
desire had been to behold it honoured. And as no one can 
soar so high as to understand this desire, so no one can attain 
to understand the greatness of this grief. We read of some 
who conceived so deep a repentance for their sins, that not 
being able to bear the grief which it caused them, they have 
lost their lives. What sorrow then must that immeasureable 
love Thou, O Lord, hadst for God and man, have caused Thee, 
seeing that a single spark of it infused into the souls of 
these penitents, was powerful enough to burst their hearts 
asunder as a blast of powder ! 

This first cause of grief, which proceeded from the love of 
God, was succeeded by another, which came from the immense 
love felt by our Saviour for men. As He alone knew, and 
alone could rightly estimate, how great an evil it is to be in 
disgrace with God, and to have to be without His glorious 
vision and company for ever, He afflicted Himself beyond 
measure, beholding those whom He loved so much placed in 
such grave and manifest danger; and thus His seeing God 
offended and men lost through sin, was as a sword with two 
edges, which pierced His Heart to the very quick, from the 
love which He bore to God for Himself and to men for His 
sake, desiring that the honour of God should be satisfied and 
the misery of men remedied, although it was to be at so great a 
cost to Himself. For if the Apostle 4 says, that the solicitude 
and care of the Churches which pressed upon him within 
consumed him more than all the troubles and persecutions 
which he suffered from without, and that when any one was 
weak he also became weak, whenever any one was scandalized 
he also was on fire, what must not our Lord, Whose charity 
3 M. Avila, Audifilia , 80. 4 2 Cor. xi. 28. 



Shame for Sin. 


9i 


was infinitely greater than that of the Apostle, have suffered 
interiorily ? 

In addition to this grief which pierced the Heart of Christ 
our Lord at seeing God offended and men condemned, there 
was another which caused Him no less suffering ; it was that of 
beholding Himself laden with the sins of all men, to satisfy the 
injury done to His Father and pay the debts of His brethren 
who were under condemnation. 5 

O most blessed Jesus ! to see Thee undergoing so many 
external torments is enough to break a Christian heart, and to 
see Thee suffering such agony within Thy Soul, there is no 
sight, no strength that can support it. Isaias says, 6 ‘All we 
like sheep have gone astray, and the Lord hath laid on Him 
the iniquity of us all.’ Thy love it was, O Lord, which accepted 
as good this rigorous sentence of Divine Justice, and Thou 
didst take on Thy shoulders and make Thyself answerable 
for all the sins without exception which had been committed by 
mankind, all that they now are committing and will commit 
from the very beginning of the world until the end, that Thou 
mightest pay for them, our Lord and our lover, with the 
anguish of Thy heart. And who can count the number of Thy 
.sorrows, seeing that no one can count the number of our sins ? 

But there is another consideration which infinitely enhances 
the mercy of God, and reveals another vein of the sorrow and 
anguish of that night. It is that our Lord desired to pay the 
price, not only as surety for faults of others, but as though He 
Himself were the culprit and as if the sins had been His own. 
For sureties, although they pay for those for whom they have 
become security, yet pay as for others, and no dishonour 
accrues to them from the faults of others, and even they gain 
much honour for paying what they do not owe. But our Lord 
made Himself entirely one with us, as the head with the body; 
and so it was His will that our faults should be called His 
faults, and that He should not only pay them with His Blood, 
but should suffer shame and confusion for them. And this 
confusion endured by our Saviour for our sins was doubtless 
5 Audi /ilia , 79. 6 Isaias liii. 6. 



92 


The Sacred Passion. 


very great, and formed a very great portion of the agony He 
underwent on entering into His Passion, when He took them 
upon Himself and offered Himself as payment for them. This 
is what the Prophet desires to signify when he says, 7 Tota die 
verecundia mea contra me est , et confusio faciei niece cooperuisti me 
—‘All the day long My shame is before Me, and the confusion 
of My face hath covered Me.’ And in another place he says, 
Operuit confusio faciem meamP —‘Shame hath covered My face/ 
And representing His sorrow to His eternal Father as one of 
the greatest which He suffered, He exclaimed, Tu scis impro- 
perium meum, et neverentiam meant 9 —‘Thy knowest My reproach, 
and My confusion and My shame/ 

Herein, then, is revealed to us a new proof of the humility 
and charity of Christ our Lord. For although our sins were so 
shameful, and He had to undergo so much shame and confusion 
in interceding for them, He nevertheless interceded and pleaded 
for them with the most profound humility and the most ardent 
charity, as though they had been His own. It often happens 
that when a man commits any infamous crime, his friends and 
kindred disavow him and forsake him, that they may escape 
the contagion of the bad odour of that infamy, and if, perchance, 
there should be found any one so true a father or friend as to 
be willing to take some step in the matter, he always begins by 
repudiating the evil deed, and showing himself to be quite free 
and foreign to it. But this most merciful Lord and lover of 
our souls covered His face with shame for the sake of the 
abominations which we commit, nor did He disdain to acknow¬ 
ledge and confess us before the tribunal of Divine Justice, not 
only as His friends and kindred, as brethren and sons, but also 
as His very members, and as the body of which He is Head. 
Hence it was that He not only interceded and supplicated that 
we might be forgiven, but He also offered, as though He 
Himself were the malefactor, to pay the penalty which we 
deserved; and thus it was that, although He asked three times 
in His prayer that, if it were possible, the chalice of His death 
should pass from Him without His drinking it, yet He saw well 
7 Psalm xliii. 1 6 . 8 Ibid, lxviii. 8. 9 Ibid. 20. 



Ingratitude. 


93 


that He was far from gaining His petition on account of the 
sins which He had taken upon Himself, and for this cause He 
called and considered them as His own, according to that 
which is written in His Person in the Psalms 10 : Longe a salute 
?nea verba delictorum meoram —‘ Far from My salvation are the 
words of My sins.’ How great, then, must have been Thy 
agony, O Lord, at this time, since it made Thee sweat the 
blood from Thy veins ? And what shame must Thou have 
suffered, so pure as Thou wert, when Thou didst see alleged 
against Thee before the tribunal of God such foul things, as 
though they had been Thy own offences ! Alas for us, for it 
is we who committed them ! 

It does not seem as if the sorrows of our Lord could have 
been greater, if it had not been that they were increased by our 
ingratitude and neglect to return His love. This is the one 
thing that most distresses those who bestow benefits upon and 
show love to others. For to see that there were to be so many 
who would not recognize or esteem or be thankful for His great 
benefits, nor avail themselves of a remedy which had cost Him 
so much, and that after He had given His Blood as medicine 
for our maladies and as a baptism which would purify our stains, 
there would with all this still be so many who would die 
eternally, and so few who would wash their garments in the 
blood of the Lamb—this was a thing which oppressed the 
Heart of our Saviour more than can be described in words. 
Herein He felt anew the sins of men, as of those who trampled 
upon His Blood, despised His love, and lightly esteemed His 
benefits. But in far higher degree He felt the sins of those 
whose ingratitude was deeper and more general on account of 
their being Christians or Religious, or persons who had received 
greater gifts from God. And if those who love much are greatly 
afflicted when their love is returned with coldness, tell us, 
O Lord, what Thou didst feel when, being so full of love 
towards men, Thou sawest in them so great a want of love, 
such forgetfulness, and such ingratitude ? 

Again, in addition to all this, our Saviour had another 
10 Psalm xxi. I. 




94 


The Sacred Passion. 


source of grief, which still more plainly shows His love, and 
from which also we may derive great consolation. For He saw 
clearly the paths which His chosen would have to follow to 
obtain the fruit of His redemption. There were represented to 
Him in great detail and minuteness all their temptations and 
their struggles, their fastings and watchings, their persecutions 
and penances, their travails and fatigues, the insults, injuries, 
and dishonour they would receive, and their sufferings and 
martyrdoms. And all these things He beheld not as the suffer¬ 
ings of others, but as His own proper sufferings, for in truth 
they belonged to Him in many ways. First, because they were 
the sufferings of His members, and on this ground they were 
His; secondly, because they would have to suffer them through 
love for Him, and in order not to deny or offend Him; thirdly, 
because the persecutors and tyrants themselves would persecute 
and torment the just for His sake, and because they served and 
followed Him. For all which reasons our most merciful and 
faithful Lord took upon Himself the weight of all these suffer¬ 
ings as if they were His own and as if He was suffering them. 

For if, when Saul was persecuting the faithful, our Lord said 
to him—‘Why persecutest thou Me?’ in the same way we 
might say that the stones of St. Stephen wounded Him, and the 
fire of St. Laurence burnt Him, and that all the other sufferings 
of the Saints, which He knew and appreciated as we never can, 
afflicted Him, and that He accepted them at that time and 
offered them to His Eternal Father in His prayer, feeling the 
travail of His mystical Body no less acutely than He felt the 
sufferings of His own natural body. 



CHAPTER IX. 


Our Saviour prays in- the Garden and sweats Blood. 

Our Saviour, being now full of these sorrowful thoughts, gave 
us an excellent example of having recourse to prayer before 
resorting to human means in similar tribulations. For when 
His most holy Humanity, in as far as it shared the weakness 
of our nature, recoiled from drinking of so bitter a chalice, and 
when He saw that all this tempest had been raised against Him 
through the hatred and envy of the Scribes and Pharisees, and 
the pride and ambition of the Chief Priests, He did not take 
any pains to relieve Himself with men until He had first pre¬ 
sented Himself before God in prayer, knowing that without His 
permission not a leaf in the tree moves, and that all things are 
governed by His will and according to the lofty and hidden 
designs of His providence. And so, in order to carry out in 
deed what He had taught by His words, 1 that prayer should be 
made in secret and with closed doors, He left even the three 
disciples whom He had taken with Him, 2 and went away from 
them about a stone’s cast, feeling very deeply this separation 
from them, as it would seem that the Gospel signifies where it 
says, Et ipse avulsus est ab eis ?J —that is to say, He tore Himself 
away from them, as one whose very heart is torn by the pain 
of leaving such faithful friends in a time of great tribulation. 
But still He withdrew from them, notwithstanding that His 
Heart was torn to part from them, showing us the firmness and 
constancy with which we ought to execute what we judge to be 
best and most for the service of God ; He also placed Himself 
just at such a distance that they might receive an example from 
Him, and that He also might pray with greater quiet and pour 
1 St. Matt. vi. 6. 2 Ibid. xxvi. 39. 3 St. Luke xxii. 41. 


The Sacred Passion. 


<96 


out His afflicted Heart with more freedom in the sight of His 
Father. 

Having then taken His place, He knelt down 4 and imme¬ 
diately prostrated Himself with the most profound humility and 
with no less agony, and, with His Divine Face on the ground, 
began His prayer, saying, 5 ‘ Father.’ Another Evangelist repeats 
it thus, 6 ‘Father, Father;’ and another says, 7 ‘My Father,’ as 
though He rejoiced Himself in the Father Who had sentenced 
Him to die and was now delivering Him to death, and in 
submitting Himself lovingly and with the spirit of a Son to His 
Father, although He beheld Him as with the sword in His 
hand, much more perfectly than Isaac submitted himself when 
seeing his father armed with the fire and the knife to offer him 
in sacrifice, said to him, 8 ‘My father.’ And here our Lord 
taught us, also, a great remedy wherewith to strengthen our 
confidence in the midst of troubles—that is, by recognizing the 
Fatherly love wherewith God chastises us, and by calling upon 
Him with mouth and heart, ‘ Father, Father.’ 

Our Saviour said then: Father, Father, Father Who art 
especially Mine, for I am Thy only begotten Son, if it be 
possible 9 —or as the other Evangelist says, if Thou will; that is, 
if with Thy will, and with Thy desire—it be possible, I entreat 
of Thee that I may not drink this chalice. As if He said, I 
desire not anything which Thou dost not desire, and what 
Thou wiliest not, that, though it be in itself very easy, is to Me 
as impossible; and this being so, that which I ask Thee, Lord, 
is on condition that Thou wiliest it, and if Thou being willing, 
this can be done, that which I could desire is not to drink this 
draught. And to teach us that to feel difficulty and repugnance 
to trials and to suffer agony and sadness under them, and to 
desire according to the flesh to be spared and escape them, 
does not diminish in the slightest degree the perfection of 
virtue, for the will remains perfectly subject to and conformed 
to that of God—after having shown, on the one hand, the 
sorrow and natural repugnance of His holy Humanity, although 

4 St. Matt. xxvi. 39. 5 St. Luke xxii. 42. 6 St. Mark xiv. 36. 

7 St. Matt. xxvi. 39. 8 Gen. xxii. 7. 9 St. Matt. xxvi. 39. 



The Father s Will. 


97 


He had signified it with so much gentleness and resignation, 
saying, ‘if it were possible,’ and ‘if His Father would so will 
it,’ yet notwithstanding all this, He did violence to Himself 
once more at the same time, remitting Himself expressly to 
the will of God, and as if withdrawing what He had said, He 
said, on the other hand, Verumtamen non sicut ego volo , sed 
sicut tu 10 —‘Nevertheless, let it be done, O Lord, not as I 
will, but as Thou wiliest and ordainest.’ 

Oh, example worthy of being received and imitated with 
the utmost reverence and humility! For remember that He 
Who thus prays is the consubstantial and only begotten Son of 
God, the Son beloved above all love, that most obedient Son 
in Whom His Father had always been well pleased. Consider 
that He to Whom He prays is His own Father; the Father 
Almighty, in Whose power lay all that He asked of Him, and 
that the subject of His prayer is His own death, a death so 
cruel and ignominous, a death which He did not deserve. And 
with all this consider the reverence with which He speaks, and 
the moderation with which He prays, and that He does not 
resolve to ask except for that which is also the will of His 
Father; and how in a matter of moment such as was never 
seen, this most loving Son does not entreat for that which His 
flesh desires, but only for that which is pleasing to His Father. 
And we vile slaves, who for our sins deserve any punishment 
whatsoever, do not consider for what or for what cause we 
pray, or with what determination and importunity we ask ! Our 
Sovereign Maker here teaches us how to pray, and that after 
having represented to the Eternal Father our desires, we are to 
say with reverence and resignation, Verumtamen not sicut ego 
volo , sed sicut tu. 

Our Saviour, having finished His prayer, returned to seek 
His disciples, Who had fallen asleep through weariness and 
sorrow, and He discharged in this the office of a watchful 
and diligent Superior, to arouse them and to warn them for the 
encounter which was at hand. And it did not fail to cause 
Him great grief to see that Judas was so active and vigilant in 

10 St. Matt. xxvi. 39. 

H 



9 8 


The Sacred Passion. 


accomplishing his treason, and that His disciples were so 
remiss and sleepy in prayer. And as Peter had shown greater 
fervour and presumption than the others in offering with so 
much impetuosity to go to prison and to death rather than 
abandon his Master, and as he had failed to enter into himself, 
or to humble himself at what our Lord had said to him before, 
when He admonished him as to the weakness and the cowar¬ 
dice which he would manifest that very night; our Lord took 
occasion from his sleep to warn him and make him recollect 
himself, and not presume upon great and difficult things when 
he was not able to accomplish easy and lesser duties. There¬ 
fore, addressing Himself especially to him He said 11 — e Simon, 
dost thou also sleep ? You said that you were ready to go 
with Me 12 and in My company to prison and to death, and now 
have you not been able to watch with Me for only so short a 
time as this ? With Me, I say, Who have been watching and 
praying, and suffering agony and sweating Blood ; with Me, 
when even if I were to fall asleep and rest Myself, it would 
have been your place to watch in My defence.’ This is the 
meaning contained in that touching and loving, Simon dor mis ? 
Non potuisti unci hora vigilare mecum ? 

Then having turned to the others, who as they had followed 
St. Peter 13 in his offers, had also imitated him in his sleep, He 
lovingly admonished them, saying, ‘Watch and pray, not so 
much for My sake as on account of your own danger, that ye 
may not be overcome by temptation. And do not be careless 
because you have a good will, for although the spirit is ready 
to do and suffer, the flesh is weak, and makes war on the spirit, 
and will overcome you if you do not persevere in prayer to 
gain from God vigour and fortitude.’ 

And what our Lord taught them in these words, He con¬ 
firmed by His example. For being still in an agony, He 
returned the second time to prayer, and strained Himself to 
subjection and uniformity with the will of His Father, and so 
He said 14 —‘My most beloved Father, I have entreated Thee 

11 St. Mark xiv. 37. 32 St. Luke xxii. 33. 

13 St. Matt. xxvi. 35. 14 Ibid. 42. 



Interior Conflict . 


99 


that if it were possible I might not have to drink of so bitter a 
chalice; but if it has been otherwise ordained by Thee, and it 
cannot be but that I drink it, Thy will be done in Me.’ Then, 
not forgetting the weakness of His disciples, He returned to 
them after His prayer, and found them sleeping a second 
time , 15 for they had been overcome by drowsiness, their eyes 
heavy, and they unable to rouse themselves. And He showed 
them how weak they would be when trial comes, if so short a 
time before they had fallen asleep in prayer. But the gentle 
and most prudent Master did not say anything to them in 
order to afflict them, regarding it as sufficient reproof that they 
saw how often they had been warned. He had found them 
sleeping, and they were so filled with confusion 16 that they 
knew not what to answer in their own excuse. Nor have we 
any excuse for the little company we give to our Saviour in 
His Passion, except that our eyes are so heavy with sleep from 
the vapours of the things of this world. 

In the way our Saviour left them at their place 17 and went 
back to pray, and repeated for the third time the words He 
had said the first and the second time, to teach us that we 
must pray thrice and many times until we are heard, and that 
we must persevere in calling at the gates of the divine mercy 
until we obtain our petitions, and that we must remain all the 
longer in prayer in proportion as the distress we feel is greater. 
This our Saviour experienced in such great degree during His 
third prayer, that St. Luke terms it agony, which properly, 
means combat and struggle, to signify that conflict which 
Christ our Lord suffered within Himself. The recollection and 
vivid representation of His death, armed with the will and 
commandment of the Eternal Father, struggled with the 
natural feeling of His holy Humanity, which rejected and fled 
from that death, and on the other hand His spirit, ready and 
full of strength, animated the weak flesh to accept death and 
resign itself to the will of God. During this struggle and agony, 
as the Evangelist says , 18 our Saviour made His prayer longer 

15 St. Matt. xxvi. 43. 16 St. Mark xiv. 40. 17 St. Matt. xxvi. 44. 

18 St. Luke xxii. 43. 


H 2 



IOO 


The Sacred Passio7i. 


and more earnestly. And as it is natural in such struggles 
that the blood collects itself from the other limbs, leaving them 
cold, and crowds round the heart and supports it, how could 
our Saviour have sweated that blood through His veins except 
that He had made so heroic and generous an effort to cast 
away His fear, while at the same time the blood collected 
round His Heart was sent forth with so much force that His 
veins were too small for it, and so opened themselves, and 
gave free course through the pores to the drops of blood 
which ran down upon the ground? And if this was so, the 
bloody sweat did not arise from fear, but from greatness of 
soul; although it is true that it might proceed also from 
vehement distress and anguish, for these, as in many cases they 
cause sweating, so when they are very violent, particularly 
when the blood is delicate, may in like manner be the cause of 
sweating blood. However this may be, our Saviour desired to 
give us this outward mark of the strife and agony which passed 
within Him, and to show more clearly the greatness of the 
resignation with which He offered Himself to the will of the 
Father in a matter so difficult that the mere imagining it made 
Him sweat blood. 

Again, His agony increased while He was in prayer, and 
His prayer also increased while He was in agony, and He 
prayed longer and more fervently, entreating His Eternal Father 
with all humility and resignation, that if it were possible this 
chalice might pass from Him, and that He might be spared 
so bitter a draught, but that nevertheless His holy will should 
be done in all things. And we may believe that all the Angels 
of Heaven were lost in profound admiration, beholding the Son 
of God, Who, with so much agony and so much reverence, 
prayed thrice to the Eternal Father for nothing less than for 
His life, and to be spared death, and a death of so much 
ignominy and suffering. And all prostrate before God (as 
they saw that Most Beloved Son and their own Lord prostrate) 
they awaited the sentence which that petition would receive 
before the tribunal and in the presence of His Father, and 
whether that death would take place or not; and whether the 



The Angel of Comfort. 


IOI 


sword with which the head of the Son was threatened would 
be returned, without shedding blood, to its sheath, as had been 
done of old with the sword of Abraham. 

Then God declared in His court to all the celestial spirits 
that His determined will was that His Son should die, and 
that He accepted His prayer, as to the offer which He made 
with so much resignation, that without regard to His own 
desires and natural feelings, He should execute on Him His 
eternal counsel and holy will. He announced to them also 
that by this means He willed to heighten His justice and 
mercy, and to give light to the world, salvation to the lost, to 
forgive their sins and satisfy His honour which had been out¬ 
raged. And all the angels and blessed spirits adored with 
profound reverence His Sovereign Majesty, and had revealed 
to them a new proof of His infinite wisdom and incompre¬ 
hensible goodness. 

And as humble and persevering prayer never returns empty 
from the gates of God, so albeit the Divine Majesty did not 
. alter the decree which He had established before all ages with 
regard to the death of His Son; nevertheless, He so far granted 
His prayer as to send an Angel from Heaven , 19 who in visible 
form should speak with and strengthen Him. Yet by what 
arguments could he comfort and console Him, seeing that our 
Lord knew all that could give Him courage in this extremity, 
and that the Angel could teach Him nothing which He did not 
already know? For what else could the Angel say to Him 
which was better or so good as what our Saviour Himself, 
with the same end of comforting them, had already said to 
His disciples after the Last Supper? But our most merciful 
Saviour, Who of His own will had chosen to be made sorrowful 
for our healing, chose also for that time to put aside from His 
memory the consideration of those things which might have 
given Him some relief, that so His holy Humanity might suffer 
more entirely without consolation, and might be comforted by 
the Angel. He likewise gave us therein a new example of 
humility, permitting Himself to be consoled and encouraged by 
19 St. Luke xxii. 43. 



102 


The Sacred Passion. 


the ministry of the Angel, who presented to Him from without 
and brought back as it were to His memory the reasons He 
had for readily accepting that chalice of bitterness, teaching us 
that if in our own troubles we do not find in ourselves that 
consolation which we give to others in theirs, we should be 
content to receive it from any one whom our Lord may 
send us. 

Our Lord having thus finished His prayer , 20 rose from the 
earth where he had been kneeling or lying prostrate, and as we 
may believe, He wiped the bloody sweat from His face before 
returning to His disciples, who, after having been warned and 
reproved the first time for their drowsiness, and visited the 
second time and found sleeping and unable to answer any¬ 
thing in their own defence, had fallen asleep the third time 
without being able to watch in prayer with their Master. Then, 
finding them asleep through weariness and sorrow, He roused 
them with grave and gentle irony, saying , 21 * Sleep on now and 
take your rest.’ As though He had said, ‘A fitting time this, 
and a good place, and a suitable occasion certainly, for sleep ! 
the earth frozen, the night dark, the air icy, enemies at hand 
who are coming to take Me! Sleep and rest, if ye can; hitherto 
I have asked you to watch with Me, to keep Me company; 
now, however, as far as I am concerned, sleep on, if you will, 
for however much you wish it, you will not be able.’ And 
then with words full of feeling and gravity, He said , 22 ‘Come, 
it is enough.’ What, you are asleep ! see that now it is no 
longer time for sleep, for the hour is come when I am to be 
delivered into the hands of most wicked and evil men. 

It must not be forgotten that among His other griefs, our 
Lord at this time felt most acutely the wrong done to Him by 
the Apostle who had sold Him. For that, although the iniquity 
of the Jews grieved Him, the malice of Judas wounded Him 
far more, and that He was sold, not by any of His disciples,, 
but by one of the Twelve who was His Apostle and His com¬ 
panion, and who had daily eaten with Him. Neither had He been 
sold at any great price, but only for the sum which they had 
20 St. Luke xxii. 45. 21 St. Matt. xxvi. 45. 22 St. Mark xiv. 41. 



Effects of Prayer. 


103 


been willing to give; for the wretched man had merely asked , 23 
‘What will you give me if I deliver Him up to you?’ And 
there had been no agreement exacted beyond the promise they 
had been ready to make. Our Lord did not seek to conceal 
the feeling which this wrong had caused Him, and thus, when 
He aroused His disciples, He said, ‘ What, do you sleep ? He 
who is to betray Me is at hand .’ 24 He is not asleep; He has 
not failed a jot in diligence and carefulness. Come, then, let us 
arise and go hence, and without showing any weakness, let 
us set out with courage to meet those who are coming in search 
of us. 

Our Blessed Lord taught us in this two things. First, that 
prayers always has good effects, and that no man ever comes 
from before the presence of God' empty • for though he may 
not obtain consolation (even as our Saviour could not obtain it, 
but anguish and discomfort), still he gains good courage and 
strength to suffer and overcome any difficulties and temptations 
whatsover. Secondly, that whilst it is indeed necessary to 
pour out our hearts, open our griefs, and to represent our 
repugnances and fears in the sight of God, as our Saviour did, 
and as David when he said , 25 Effundo in conspectu ejus orationem 
meam et tribulcitionem meam ante ipsum pronuntio —‘ In His sight 
I pour out my prayers, and before Him I declare my trouble,’ 
still, when the time for trouble comes, we must show a bold 
face and good courage before the men or the demons who 
persecute us. 


23 St. Matt. xxvi. 15. 


24 St. Mark xiv. 42. 


Psalm cxli. 3. 




CHAPTER X. 


Our Saviour is betrayed and seized. 

When the false Apostle, Judas, under the instigation of the 
devil, left the Supper room and separated himself from the 
other disciples, he set himself in all diligence to make arrange¬ 
ments for the seizure of our Saviour, going from house to house, 
to the Chief Priests and heads of the Synagogue, offering now 
to fulfil the promise -he had made, describing the opportunity 
that had now come to hand, and explaining the plan and order 
they should follow so that our Lord might not escape them. 
And as Judas did not believe in Him , 1 but looked upon Him 
as a deceiver and impostor, he took all possible precautions 
that his project might not fail. Accordingly, he arranged with 
the Governor for a party of the soldiers of his guard , 2 and those 
■who put the number lowest say that he had one hundred and 
twenty two soldiers; and this number seeming to them small, 
the Priests and Pharisees ordered that their own servants should 
also go with them, that they might swell the body of the armed 
men, and to give assistance should it prove necessary. But 
that the enterprize might not fail on account of the absence of 
chiefs and officers in command, they determined that there 
should be present some of the Chief Priests , 3 among whom 
were persons of much authority, and who in past years had 
themselves been High Priests; and to give the affair greater 
importance, they were accompanied by several officers of the 
Temple, who had charge, some of the building, others of the 
property, others of the sacrifices and offerings and the like. 
All these men went well armed 4 and prepared for whatever 

1 St John vi. 65. 2 Ibid, xviii. 3. 3 St. Luke xxiL 52. 

4 St. Matt. xxvi. 47. 


Activity of Judas. 


105 


might happen, some with hangers and swords, and others less 
well armed with staves and sticks. They also carried with them 
lanterns and torches , 5 to light their path and to prevent our 
Saviour from hiding Himself from them in the darkness. From 
the number of people collected together and the great prepara¬ 
tions which were made, it is easy to see how great was the energy 
manifested by Judas, and how much noise and tumult there was 
in the city. For if we consider well we find that an army was 
collected of all kinds of people, of Jews and of Gentiles, of 
servants and free, of clergy and laymen, of men of war and men 
of peace, in order that all might share in the taking of Him 
through Whom all have to obtain liberty. 

Of all this troop Judas made himself the captain, for St. Luke 
says 6 ‘that he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went in 
the first place before them,’ and in the Acts of the Apostles 7 it 
is written that Judas was the leader of them that took Jesus. 
This office Judas performed exactly in many ways, for he it 
was who first chose the night time, to avoid the tumult and 
resistance which might be made by the multitudes who followed 
and accompanied our Saviour, and by this he satisfied the fears 
of the priests, who, to prevent any disturbance arising among 
the people, had wished to postpone the taking of Jesus until 
after the feast of the Pasch. Secondly, he made choice of a 
place outside the city, and in the country, where our Saviour 
might be found alone, and more out of reach of those who 
might have favoured His cause. For the traitor well knew the 
place , 8 because Jesus was wont often to resort thither, together 
with His disciples, seeking the quiet and solitude to pray there 
and to discourse with His disciples concerning the more hidden 
and secret mysteries, for certainly he would have gone to His 
house to look for Him if he had thought that He was sleeping 
at that hour, whereas he went to seek Him in the Garden, 
because he knew He would be there to pray. Thirdly, he pro¬ 
vided the soldiers with lanterns and torches and arms—the 
lanterns on account of the darkness of the night, and that if our 
Saviour should try to hide Himself in the fields and take flight, 

5 St. John xviii. 3. 6 xxii. 47. 7 i. 16. 8 St. John xviii. 2. 



io6 


The Sacred Passion. 


they might make search for Him and take Him. So much did 
that Eternal Light hide itself in our mortal flesh, that the 
powers of darkness went out to seek for it with lanterns ! The 
arms were intended to inspire terror, and to prevent any one 
from venturing to make resistance, and, if that were attempted, 
that they might fight with them and keep possession of their 
prisoner. Fourthly, Judas gave them the sign, whereby they 
might not only know the person of our Saviour, but also the 
time when they were to surround Him in order to take Him, 
and this it belongs to the leader to do. The signal which he gave 
them was the common and ordinary salutation customary among 
friends, namely, a kiss on the face, and herein Judas was a 
traitor, because—false and double man as he was—he had a 
double and deceitful purpose in this, first to deliver the victim 
to them, and secondly to conceal himself from his Master, and 
to join the company of the other Apostles, as though he had 
come from doing some other business, without letting it be 
known that he had a part in this evil deed. Fifthly, he exhorted 
them, saying : 9 Quemcumque osculatus fuero , ipse est, tenete eum , 
et ducite caute — 4 Whomsoever I shall kiss that is He, hold Him 
fast and take Him away carefully.’ As if to say — 4 As it is 
night, and many of you who are coming do not know Him, and 
He is that sort of person that it would not be much for Him to 
play us a trick and escape our hands, therefore let nothing be 
done till I give the signal. The one to Whom I shall go up 
and kiss Him in the face, that is He ; draw near to Him quickly 
and seize Him and take Him off, cautiously and with great 
care, that He may not escape you by means of some evil art, 
and that the people, who have Him in devotion, may not rescue 
Him.’ After this fashion had Judas taken watchful heed in 
that his treasonable plot whilst the other disciples were sleeping 
over prayers. And in this we see also that if those who are in 
a state of perfection are not very good, they ordinarily come, 
like Judas, to end in the extremity of wickedness. 

Then the troop began to march in good order towards the 
Mount of Olives. The soldiers of the guard were there , 10 and 

9 St. Matt. xxvi. 48; St. Mark xiv. 44. 10 St. John xviii. 12. 



The Kiss of Judas. 


107 


their captain with them, and many of the Chief Priests and 
officers of the Temple, and elders of the people and men of 
authority, accompanied by their servants and attendants, and 
other people who followed them. They carried with them, as 
we have said, torches and lanterns, in the light of which the 
arms gleamed, and Judas went before them all with as much 
pomp as if they had come forth to bring peace to the land, and 
to take captive some robber, or chief of brigands. They arrived 
at Gethsemani at the time when our Saviour, after having prayed 
the third time , 11 was in conversation with His disciples. 

On this occasion our Lord was pleased to make a mani¬ 
festation of His Divinity, and of the freewill with which He 
was delivering Himself up for our sakes, because, although His 
enemies had a guide and a signal by which to recognize Him, 
and although they had so large a force to take Him, and though 
Judas was desirous to dissemble and conceal his evil purpose 
beneath false demonstrations of friendship, yet after all neither 
did they recognize Him until He made Himself known to them, 
nor did they lay hold of Him until He allowed Himself to be 
taken, nor was Judas able to conceal himself by mingling with 
the rest of the Apostles, as it appears that he intended. For, 
first, when Judas was now near at hand, our Saviour arose 12 to 
meet them in the path, and then Judas, with diabolical daring, 
pretending that he was a friend and a disciple, and not an 
enemy and a traitor, saluted Him, saying—‘Hail, Master!’ 13, 
giving Him the kiss of peace, thus using the sign of love as the 
instrument of his treachery. But our most gentle Lord, Who 
was peaceful with those who abhorred peace , 14 did not disdain 
to receive that kiss from the mouth of Judas, not only that He 
might thereby give an instance of His incomprehensible gentle¬ 
ness, but also that He might show that it was of His own will 
He delivered up Himself, since He did not refuse the signal 
which the traitor had given ; and also to draw to Himself that 
man possessed by the devil, seeing that He did not deny to, 
him the mark of peace; and also to correct by His breath, as 

11 St. Matt. xxvi. 46. 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid. 49 ; St. Mark xiv. 45. 

14 Psalm cxix. 7. 



io8 


The Sacred Passion. 


his Divine Saviour, the poison which Judas bore in his own, as 
they joined in that mutual embrace which proceeded from two 
hearts so different one from the other. 

And not to lose an opportunity of doing good to one who 
was doing evil to Him, our Lord, after having given him that 
token of love, admonished Judas in words of great sweetness 
and gentleness, not such as the gravity of the crime required, 
but rather such as the condition of the poor wretch allowed, 
calling him by his own name (which is a sign of kindness), and 
declaring to him the heinousness of his evil deed. And this He 
did, not by speaking strongly or reprehending him, but asking 
him a question, which is a token of courtesy and love, saying 
to him : 15 Juda , osculo Filium hominis trad is ? —‘Judas, dost 
thou betray the Son of Man with a kiss?’ As if to say—Dost 
thou make war upon Me with signs of peace? Dost thou 
deliver Me up to death with marks of love ? Can the disciple 
act thus to his Master, and the servant to his Lord ? Then, to 
move him more to recognize his own crime, He put another 
question to him, in words as strong and as loving as before 16 — 
4 Friend, wherefore art thou come ? ’ Friend, not that thou art, 
but that thou hast been, and because thou hast , been such, the 
greater is the evil thou art doing Me, and the greater the pain 
and the grief which thou causest Me: Quia si inimicus mens 
maledixisset mihi , sustinuissem utiqne , etc.— c For if My enemy 
had reviled Me, I would verily have borne with it,’ etc . 17 Friend, 
as thou hast been, and as thou oughtest still to be, and as thou 
still mayest be, as far as it depends on Me, for I am well 
disposed to be thy Friend, not because thou dost wish for My 
friendship, not because thy deeds merit the name, but because 
My love requires this, and the work that I do for thee, as if 
thou wast My friend. Therefore, friend, what is this design 
thou hast in hand, and what is the enterprize thou hast come 
here to accomplish ? Judas was doubtless greatly disturbed 
on perceiving that his treason was so manifest to the eyes of 
his Master, and was astonished and confused at His gentle 
manner, and as his evil conscience did not permit him to 
15 St. Luke xxii. 48. 16 St. Matt. xxvi. 50. 17 Psalm liv. 13. 



“I am He.” 


109 


mingle amongst the other Apostles and his fellow disciples, he 
went back towards the soldiers and servants who had come 
there with him. ls But, although Judas had given them the 
signal which had been agreed upon, they did not move from 
their place or recognize our Saviour, because the capture was 
not to be made at their will and as they chose, but as our Lord 
had destined and ordained that it should be. 

After having said these words in the order here set forth, 19 ' 
our Saviour, seeing that Judas had withdrawn himself, and that 
the soldiers did not approach Him , 20 though He knew all that 
was to happen, yet, as He was to suffer of His own freewill, 
and did not desire to hide Himself or to fly, went to meet 
them on the way, and said—‘Whom seek ye?’ But they were 
so blinded that they did not see Him Who was before them, 
and although Judas had come with them for that very purpose , 21 
neither did He let them recognize Him, nor did they know Him, 
and so they spoke to Him as to a third person, saying—‘We 
seek Jesus of Nazareth.’ Then, as they were now convinced 
that all their care, and the precautions they had taken, had. 
turned out in vain, and that they had been able neither to 
apprehend Him nor even recognize Him, Jesus made Himself 
known to them, saying—‘ I am He.’ And His voice was so 
full of majesty, and of so great terror and fear to those 
ministers of iniquity that, as if it had been a thunderbolt, 
they turned backwards and fell to the ground, and Judas with 
them, involved in the same misery as those of whom he was the 
guide. This fall was a lively representation of that which befell, 
the Synagogue on that day, which was so terrible that with it 
was also lost the Kingdom, the Scriptures, the Temple, the; 
sacrifices, and finally, even the being named the chosen people • 
of God, and it has been a fall so difficult to recover from, that 
from that day to the present there has been no rising again. 

What courage and joy would have animated the souls of 
the Apostles at seeing the might of their leader, who, on the 
very first encounter, caused a whole troop by a single word to. 

18 St.John xviii. 5. 19 St. Augustine, De Cons. Evang. 1 . iii. c.. 5. 

20 St. John xviii. 4. 21 Ibid. 5. 



IIO 


The Sacred Passion. 


draw back and fall to the ground ! Where was then the captain 
with his cohort? Where was the pride and bravery of the 
soldiers ? Where the fear and terror of their arms ? It was 
God Himself Who spoke. How will it be when He comes to 
judge, since, when He was going to be judged, He gave so 
great a manifestation of His power and majesty? 

During the whole time that His enemies were lying prostrate 
on the ground, our Saviour remained standing without stirring 
from His place, and when at last they arose He reproached 
them once more with their weakness, and asked them— 4 Whom 
seek ye ? ’ It might have been expected that, after so evident 
a miracle, they would have recognized J esus, and would have 
sought Him to adore Him and to serve Him. But since, after 
they had been warned and chastised, these men still persevered 
(as many do) in their evil will to seize Him, so also their 
blindness still continued, and they answered, with the same 
perturbation as before, 4 We seek Jesus of Nazareth.’ Then 
our Lord, pointing out the perplexity and blindness in which they 
were, answered saying— 4 1 have told you that I am He.’ And 
that He might give a proof of the love and solicitude which He 
felt for His friends, even unto death, and manifest also His 
empire and power over His enemies, He added, 22 4 If therefore 
ye seek Me, observe that I command you to molest not one of 
these My friends, but let them freely go their way.’ Which 
words were words of command and not of entreaty, for our 
Lord well knew that His enemies were not disposed to do what 
He might ask of them, and therefore He commanded them and 
bound fast their hands. For if He had not so bound them, how 
would St. Peter- have been able to go out of the Garden, and 
to pass in freedom through such an array of soldiers, after having 
been so bold as to wound the servant of the High Priest ? But 
they heard the mandate and obeyed it, because of the power 
of our Lord, Who, when speaking to His Eternal Father, had 
said, 23 4 Father, those whom Thou gavest Me I have kept, and 
none of them is lost, but Judas, as it was prophesied of him 
in the Scriptures, who has been lost by his own fault.’ 

22 St. John xviii. 8. 23 Ibid. xvii. 12. 



Peter and Malchus.. 


111 


The attack which Peter made, as we have just mentioned, 
took place in the following manner. Amongst the rest who 
came with that troop was a servant of the High Priest, named 24 
Malchus, who, perhaps, from what he had heard said in his 
master’s house, was less inclined than others to respect our 
Lord, and had greater malice against Him, and thought that 
no one had a greater right than he, who belonged to the house¬ 
hold of the Pontiff, to be first in this business. Afterwards, 
when our Saviour made Himself known, Malchus pressed for¬ 
ward to lay hands on Him with greater quickness and daring 
than others, and the disciples, seeing that the thing was going 
too far, said, 25 ‘Lord, is the time and moment come? Wilt 
Thou that we use our swords?’ For they had brought with them 26 
two swords, or daggers, at least. But while they were asking 
leave of our Lord, St. Peter, without waiting His reply, 27 closed 
with the servant of the High Priest, and' struck him a blow on 
the head, which glanced off, perhaps, from the headpiece on 
which it fell, and struck the right ear and cut it off. Such was 
the fervour of St. Peter, and the zeal which he had to defend 
his Master. 

But our Saviour saw the disorderly and indiscreet defence 
which the Apostle had undertaken, and that no other result 
could follow except that of making it appear that He was going 
to meet His death against His will, since He endeavoured 
to defend Himself by the weapons of His Apostles, having 
Himself always taken care to show the exact contrary; and 
therefore this Divine Lord, the Peacemaker of heaven and 
earth, set Himself to reconcile the combatants, and to prevent 
the rest of the Apostles from preparing to follow the example 
of Peter, said to them, ‘It is enough, do no more, go no 
further in this; let vengeance be at end, for now is the time 
for patience only.’ Then, not forgetting His accustomed com¬ 
passion, and also to do away with all occasion of their being 
troubled, and that there might be no cause for putting them to 
death as having resisted justice, and rather, on the other hand, 

24 St. John xviii. io. 25 St. Luke xxii. 49 26 Ibid. 38. 

27 St. John xviii. 10. 



I 12 


The Sacred Passion. 


to put the others under an obligation by a new benefit, and to 
win their hearts by a new proof of His goodness, He drew near 
to the wounded man, and touching his ear, healed it. Such was 
the charity of our Lord which burned brightly in the midst of 
the many waters and lorded it over everything in the midst of 
the hatred of His enemies, whilst at the same time it inspires 
us with hope that we shall receive from His hand the healing 
of the wounds which have been inflicted on us by sin, and such 
healing as to repair all this hurt that has come to us for having 
waged war against Him; and all this as a proof of His ineffable 
piety and mercy. 

Then, that He might be Himself in all things, after having 
cured the bodily wound of the enemy, He set Himself to 
enlighten the ignorance of the disciple, and to give testimony 
by His own word of the goodwill with which He offered 
Himself up to death that He might fulfil the will of His Father, 
and accomplish that which had been prophesied of Him in the 
Scriptures. It was also His desire to strike, by the way, the 
hearts of the Jews, by setting before them the penalty and 
chastisement to which they were subjecting themselves by 
seeking to put Him to death unjustly. Therefore, in presence 
of them all, he said to St. Peter, 28 ‘ Put up again, Peter, thy 
sword into its place; this is not the time wherein to defend 
ourselves by arms, although our enemies are so unjustly attack¬ 
ing us with theirs; for of a truth I say unto you (and the others 
also heard Him), that he who takes the sword in hand against 
justice and without lawful authority, incurs the penalty that he 
shall himself perish thereby. And as for Me, I do not desire 
at this time to flee from death, but to accept it with the utmost 
willingness and love, for I do not look on it as inflicted on Me 
by these men’s hands, but as willed and ordained by My 
Father. The chalice which My Father hath given me, do 
you desire that I should not drink it ? It is quite sufficient 
that it should be given by such a hand, in order that I should 
look upon it as sweet, and that I should drink it with thirst 
and with desire. And if I should require defence, what 
28 St. Matt. xxvi. 52. 




Our Lord taken as a Thief. 113 


necessity have I of yours, so weak, few, and unarmed as ye 
are; 29 since I have only to open My mouth 30 and ask My 
Father, and He will send Me here at once, instead of eleven 
men that you are, more than twelve legions of Angels, who will 
assist in My defence and service ? But I am not now about to 
defend Myself, nor is this which you now see happen to Me a 
new and unthought of thing to Me, for many ages ago the holy 
Prophets, moved by the Holy Spirit, foretold it, and that it was 
meet that thus it should be. And if I were to set Myself to 
offer resistance, how could the Scriptures be fulfilled?’ 

It is much to be considered, that in whatever manner they 
had taken Christ our Lord, even if it had been with the obser¬ 
vance and respect due to His Person, it would still have been a 
matter of much dishonour and pain, seeing He was a Person of 
so much authority, and so well known and revered throughout 
all that land for His sermons, His miracles, and His excellent 
virtues. All this had kept them under restraint in the course 
of His preaching; for although they had many times 31 sought 
means and ways to lay hands on Him, they had never dared 
to do so through fear of the people, who held and revered 
Him as a prophet. And this being so, they had come forth 
on this occasion to take Him, not as a prophet, nor as a good 
man, but as though He had been a criminal and a thief, and One 
Whom it was therefore necessary to take by force. Nor was this 
outrage so small, or so little felt by our Lord, that He chose to 
conceal it and be silent about it, as He had dissembled so 
many and so grievous outrages in His Passion; but still He 
was so calm and selfpossessed, that in that hour 32 when His 
enemies were surrounding Him with so much violence, He set 
Himself to reason with them, and declared to them what He 
felt at their treatment of Him, and how in all things they 
showed themselves out of their senses and in darkness. There¬ 
fore He spoke to the multitudes who were there, and more 
especially to those 33 of the Chief Priests and officers of the 
Temple and the elders of the people who had come, saying to 

29 St. John xviii. II. 30 St. Matt. xxvi. 53. 31 Ibid. xxi. 46. 

32 Ibid. xxvi. 55. 33 St. Luke xxii. 52. 

I 




The Sacred Passion. 


114 


them, 1 You have come forth from the city to seek and take 
Me with an armed force, with swords and spears, with torches 
and lanterns, and with a guide and a leader who might know 
Me and discover Me to you, as though I were a thief and a 
robber, as if I would go about the country doing harm and 
would hide myself in caves and in deserts. But it is not so, 
since continually and every day (so to speak) I was amongst 
you in public, and with all openness and easiness of access in 
the Temple and in the city where is your seat of government 
and of justice. Wherefore do you come forth into the country 
to seek Him Whom ye had within the city ? Wherefore come 
with arms and soldiers to Him Who was walking peaceably in 
the midst of you ? Wherefore was it requisite to have recourse 
to an informer in order to discover One Who taught publicly 
in the Temple? But at that time, when I was so close at 
hand, you have not dared to lay hands on Me, because I did 
not will it, and now that you have made all this uproar to dis¬ 
honour Me, as though I were a thief, as little would you be 
able to lay hands on Me if I did not will it and give you 
permission. But your hour has arrived, 34 and it is this present 
hour, in which power over Me is given to you and to the prince 
of darkness, who is inciting you.’ 

By these words which our Saviour spoke, and by the per¬ 
mission which He gave them, the evil spirits, and the Jews 
their ministers, found themselves become free and at liberty to 
do their will in all things. Then all of them at once, that is to 
say, 35 the captain and his band and the rest of the people and 
servants of the Jew’s, laid hands on Jesus and took Him. They 
had brought with them ropes and chains, and taking all the 
precautions w T hich Judas had recommended, 36 they bound Him 
tightly with them. Yes, they bound the author of freedom, and, 
perchance, there were many amongst them w’ho were afterwards 
freed by Him, and said, 37 Dirupisti Donline , vincula mea , tibi 
sacrificabo hostiam laudis —‘Thou hast broken my bonds, I will 
sing to Thee the sacrifice of praise.’ The seizure w T as made 

34 St. Luke xxii. 53. 35 St. John xviii. 12. 36 Ibid. 

37 Psalm cxv. 16, 17. 



Flight of the Apostles. 


ll 5 


with great violence and rudeness, both in word and act, for 
St. Matthew says 38 that they laid hands on Him. Then the 
multitude broke out into shouts as loud as those which 
conquerors raise when they have carried off the spoil, and 
Judas returned, talking with the priests and magistrates, being 
well content with the success which had attended his efforts 
and diligence, though it had been better for him had he never 
been born. The Apostles, scandalized and disturbed at seeing 
what was taking place, and conjecturing thence what might 
follow, were filled with apprehension and fear, and forgetting 
all the offers they had made after the Supper, the occasion 
having now come, 39 they all forsook Him and fled. 

So great was the tumult made by those who laid hands on 
our Saviour, 40 that a young man with a linen cloth on him, and 
half naked, who was near at hand, came up at the noise, and 
when they began to lay hold of him, he left the linen cloth in 
their hands and fled from them naked as he was. So it often 
happens that men suffer more for fleeing from the Cross of 
Jesus Christ than they would suffer in following it. And, while 
nothing more is required from us in order to be perfect than 
that we should leave all things and follow in nakedness the 
naked Jesus; still, in order not to follow Him nor to share in 
His Passion, we give into the hands of despoilers that which we 
do not desire to leave for Him, and are bereft of all that is 
temporal whilst flying from what is eternal. 

The Apostles having dispersed by different roads, found 
their way together to the house on Zion, whence they had 
gone forth, and told the Blessed Mother of our Lord all that 
had taken place in the Garden, and of the state in which they 
had left her Son, giving her thereby matter for bitter grief, for 
sublime contemplation, and most perfect conformity to the will 
of God. 

38 xxvi. 50. 39 Ibid. 56. 40 St. Mark xiv. 51. 


I 2 



CHAPTER XI. 


Our Saviour is brought before the Priests and accused. 

The meek and gentle Lamb being now in the hands of those 
cruel wolves, they brought Him out of the Garden whither He 
had retired to pray ; and passing a second time over the brook 
Cedron, they took Him by the road to Jerusalem, having first 
bound and fastened His hands, with loud cries and shoutings, 
and dragging Him by the neck they forced Him along the 
road, with far greater haste than became His modesty and 
gravity, as He fell very often, and was then made to rise with 
blows and pushes as if He were a thief. The path which they 
followed led to the house of Caiaphas, 1 who was the High 
Priest of the Synagogue, and supreme ecclesiastical judge of 
the Jewish people. He was, moreover, President over that 
supreme and most ancient Council called the Sanhedrim, and 
which consisted of seventy one judges, who with the High 
Priest who presided numbered seventy two councillors. And 
if we recall to mind that when Judas went out of the Supper - 
chamber it was already night, 2 and that after he had left it our 
Saviour made a long discourse after supper, and then went to 
the Garden, where three several times He made a long prayer; 
and if we also remember all that took place at the time of His 
apprehension; it is very evident that by the time the soldiers 
returned to the city with their prisoner and went to the house 
of the High Priest it must have been about midnight. Yet, 
notwithstanding this, the old judges and the elders of the 
people were so carried away by their passion that, without any 
respect to what became their age or their character, they had 
1 St. Matt, xxvi. 57. 2 St. John xiii. 30. 


The House of Annas. 


1 17 


met at that hour in council that no moment might be lost, and 
that the cause might not suffer from want of diligence. 

Thus, then, the great High Priest of the New Testament 
entered Jerusalem to offer His life as a sacrifice acceptable to 
God for the redemption of all the world, and to put an end to 
the law and to the ancient sacrifices and priesthood. The 
trial began in the house of the High Priest, 3 where the other 
priests and the lawyers had gathered together to await Him, 
but the soldiers and servants who had taken Him captive went 
first 4 to the house of Annas, because he was father in law of 
Caiaphas, the High Priest that year. In doing this our Lord 
underwent great humiliation, allowing Himself to be taken, 
bound and in chains, with so much of tumult and ignominy to 
the houses of the father and of the son in law, that at the cost 
of His honour and authority they might pay honour and court 
to these evil priests. But Annas, as soon as they had brought 
Him to his house, sent Him 5 bound, as He came, to Caiaphas 
who was the High Priest, and to whom the cause appertained. 
This Caiaphas was the same who in the council had advised the 
Jews 6 that it was expedient that one man should die for the 
safety of all. And now he who had given this counsel was 
ready to put it into execution, and all the things which are 
recounted of this night took place in his house. 

Although, at the time of the taking of Jesus, when He was 
in the Garden, all the disciples who were with Him 7 fled and 
forsook their Master, St. Peter, nevertheless, impelled by his 
fervour and devotion, could not remain quiet, 8 and followed 
Him to see what came of His arrest, though he followed Him 
afar off on account of the fear which had taken possession 
of him. There was also another of the disciples who went 
after our Lord 9 —whether it were St. John, as some say, or 
as others think, and with greater probability, some citizen of 
Jerusalem of those who followed His teaching, and who, being 
in a higher rank of life, was acquainted with the High Priest. 
Our Saviour, then, entered the house of Caiaphas attended by 

3 St. Mark xiv. 53. 4 St. John xviii. 13. 5 Ibid. 24. 6 Ibid. 14. 

7 St. Matt. xxvi. 56. 8 Ibid. 58. 9 St. John xviii. 15. 



118 


The Sacred Passion. 


the tumultuous multitude which had come forth with Him from 
the Garden, and others who, attracted by the uproar, had joined 
the crowd as it passed through the streets. It is probable 
that as soon as they had brought Him into the house, the 
captain and the Roman soldiers who had been the principal 
force used in the capture and guarding the prisoner, were 
dismissed, well paid and satisfied. Entrance into the house 
having been denied to the rest of the crowd who, desiring to 
know what was passing, had made obstinate efforts to get inside 
the doors, and all who did not belong to the house, and who 
were not servants of those who were within, having been 
dismissed, the judges remained with the prisoner with closed 
doors. But on account of its being night, and also for the 
better guarding of the house, in order also that the proceedings 
might be conducted with greater security, the door was watched 
by a female servant belonging to the house. In spite of all 
this, that other disciple, being known in the house of the High 
Priest, entered in without hindrance, 10 whilst Peter remained 
outside at the door. When the other disciple who had gone in 
saw this, he spoke to the servant at the door and asked her 
to let Peter enter with him. Thus it was he met with some 
one able to bestow this favour on him, and to help him to enter 
the palace, where because Truth was so persecuted he denied 
it, and then came forth with matter over which to shed bitter 
tears throughout the rest of his life. 

Our Saviour having been brought before the High Priest, 
and St. Peter and the other disciple who were witnesses of all 
that took place that night, being also in the hall, the High 
Priest began to examine into the cause against our Saviour 
judicially before those other priests and lawyers who had met 
together there. For although they intended to convoke another 
.full and legitimate council the first thing in the morning, the 
High Priest desired to begin that very night to enter into the 
affair and to see what aspects it bore, and what articles and 
proofs there were against the prisoner, that he might arrange 
His accusation, and put Him to death as he desired. More- 
10 St. John xviii. 16. 



The Question as to Doctrine. 


119 


over, as the High Priest held Him to be a disturber and 
deceiver of the people, and one who preached falsehoods 
against the law and ancient traditions, he examined Him first 
of all on two points. 11 The first had regard to the disciples— 
who they were, how many, where they were, and to what end 
He had assembled them together. The second had respect to 
the doctrine which He taught, to see whether he could find any 
falsehood or calumny against it. 

To the first question, as to His disciples, our Saviour 
answered nothing, for as they had all been scandalized and 
had fled, and as Peter was there present so distressed and full 
of fear, what could He have answered that would have served 
for their defence or to their honour ? But especially as to the 
object with which the High Priest questioned Him, it was 
enough to answer respecting His doctrine, for if that was good 
and coming from God, He could not have gathered His 
disciples for an evil purpose. Therefore, passing over the 
first question, He replied to the second, 12 saying—‘I have 
spoken publicly, openly to the whole world; you may suspect 
a doctrine to be false and pernicious when it is taught in the 
dark and in corners, but I always, or nearly always, and 
ordinarily, have preached in the synagogue and in the Temple 
where the Jews meet together, and I have not said anything 
hidden or in secret. For, although I have sometimes spoken 
alone with My disciples in order to explain to them more 
plainly, as to persons who are better capable of understanding, 
what I have taught the people in parables and similitudes; I 
say, nevertheless, that I have taught nothing in secret, since 
the things I have taught in secret were not different from or 
foreign to what I have preached in public; 13 nor did I impart 
them to My disciples that they might keep them secret, but 
rather that through their means they might be published to all 
the world.’ Such ought to be the words and the works of those 
who are teachers of truth, that they may appear in full light 
before God and men. ‘ It being thus, wherefore do you inquire 
.of Me respecting My doctrine, seeing that you have it in your 
11 St. John xviii. 19. 12 Ibid. 20. 13 St. Matt. x. 27. 



120 


The Sacred Passion. 


power to inquire of so many whose answers you would consider 
to be more truthful and less suspicious than Mine ? Obtain 
information yourself, if you will, from those who have heard 
Me, for they will know what are the things which I have taught/ 

This reply, so full of truth and integrity as it was, and 
given with so much gentleness and simplicity, was taken amiss 
by one of the attendants who was present, it seeming to him 
that it charged the High Priest with having asked an indiscreet 
question, and one which was out of place; and desiring to 
flatter the High Priest, and to insult and punish our Lord 
before the whole of the council and of the rest who were there 
present, he exclaimed, 14 ‘Answerest Thou the High Priest 
so ? ’ As if he had said— 4 Despicable and insolent man, dost 
thou dare to speak to the High Priest with such freedom and 
impertinence ? ’ And so saying, he raised his sacrilegious hand 
—which was moved by the whole weight of our sins—and 
struck our Saviour on His sacred face. 

Although He had received so great an injury at the hands 
of a worthless man, in so public a place, and before the priests 
and lawyers and the principal persons of the Synagogue, our 
Saviour maintained His accustomed calm and dignity, and with 
the same composure, gentleness, and simplicity as He had 
shown in answering the High Priest, He addressed Himself to 
this man who had so foully outraged Him. For He deemed 
that on this occasion, when the injury was so recent, to pass it 
over altogether in silence would not show the same degree of 
humility as would be manifested in justifying Himself with 
so much gentleness and meekness to one who did not deserve 
it. Besides, as this man had not only insulted His Person, but 
had also reproached Him with His answer, He would not keep 
silence as to this second point, because it would have been to 
the detriment of the truth of His doctrine in defence of which 
He had answered. And in this way He gave him to under¬ 
stand how much greater had been the want of respect which 
he himself had shown to the High Priest by putting his hands 
on the prisoner in his presence only because he had answered 
14 St. John xviii. 22. 




Our Lord's answer to the Blow. 


I 2 I 


for himself. But how violent must have been the fury of the 
High Priest himself, since he passed over the insult offered to 
himself on account of the pleasure which he received from the 
insult done to another? For if the inquiry was to be conducted 
without passion, the servant had nothing to do but to give his 
testimony of the evil, and the judge nothing but to hear and to 
give sentence. So our Saviour said to the man—‘ If in My 
answer, or in the doctrine I have taught, there be anything evil 
or worthy of reprehension, point it out. If now, or at any 
time, I have spoken evil, give testimony of it before the High 
Priest, since he is here present. But if in both and at other 
times I have always spoken well, why strikest thou Me?’ 
As though He had said—‘ Give some other reason for having 
struck Me, but do not say it is because I have spoken ill.’ 

‘ What answer/ says St. Augustine, 15 ‘ could be more true or 
more gentle, or more complete in its justification, and more 
reasonable ? If we consider Who it is that received the buffet, 
how can we help wishing for fire to be sent from heaven to 
burn up him who gave it; or that the earth should open and 
swallow him up, or some devils seize him and tear him in 
pieces, or that he should have been at once chastised with 
these punishments, or with others greater still ? Which also of 
these punishments might not our Lord, Who created the world, 
have sent on that sacrilegious man as a punishment, if He had 
not wished to teach us that patience by which the world is 
conquered ? And if any one should ask wherefore He did not 
offer him the other cheek after he had wounded Him on 
the one, as He had taught? 16 the answer to this is, that not 
only was He ready to give the other cheek to him who had 
struck the one, but to give His whole Body also, that it might 
be nailed upon the Cross. But He teaches us here that those 
commandments of evangelical and perfect patience are not so 
much to be fulfilled by a vain outward bodily ostentation, as 
by the humble preparation of the heart within us, for it may 
easily happen that he who offers the other cheek may do it in 
a very angry frame of mind, when it would be much better 
15 Tract cxiii. in John. 16 St. Matt. v. 39. 




122 


The Sacred Passion. 


that he should answer the truth in sincerity, with calmness, 
and be ready with a quiet mind to suffer still greater injuries.’ 
All this is from St. Augustine. 

Had this trial been conducted with justice and equity, our 
Saviour would have gained by that reply of His, that if good, 
it would have been accepted, and if evil, that it would have 
been refuted, and He convicted. But as the trial was all 
perverted, and the judges inflamed with passion, and all the 
council determined to put Him to death, through envy and 
ambition , 17 and through the fears they had conceived that the 
Romans would come and destroy their people and Temple, 
and as the very holding of the trial itself was only to give 
colour to their malice, therefore they sought and solicited false 
witnesses, 1S desiring to obtain from them some evidence, even 
though false, which might be sufficient to enable them to 
condemn Him to death upon it. But the life and teaching of 
our Saviour had been such that there was no means of 
inventing what they desired, although they sought for it with so 
much diligence. For though many, to ingratiate themselves 
with the Chief Priests, or else on account of the promises or 
threats which were made to them, offered themselves to say 
what they could, yet some of them spoke in one way, and 
some in another, and all of them gave false testimony. What, 
indeed, could they say but the same things which they had 
falsely and maliciously whispered against Him during His life ? 
Such as that He had made a compact with the devil, that He 
had broken the festivals, that He was a gluttonous man and a 
winebibber, that He consorted with publicans and sinners, that 
He fomented tumults among the people, that He taught them 
not to pay tribute to kings, and finally, that He was a blas¬ 
phemer, and called Himself the Son of God. Although it be 
true that they afterwards made use of these witnesses, now one 
and now another, as most served their purpose, to cany'- on the 
trial and to overcome the Governor and lead him to pronounce 
sentence of death, it was easy to be seen 19 that the witnesses 

17 St. John xi. 53. 18 St. Matt. xxvi. 59 ; St. Mark xiv. 55. 

19 St. Mark xiv. 56. 



The False Witnesses . 


12 


were not sufficient, since neither did they agree together nor 
were they themselves such and so well approved as to be 
convincing enough to be grounds for the sentence of death 
which they aimed at. 

At last witnesses arose who said 20 —‘We have heard this 
Man say , 21 I can destroy and will destroy this your Temple, 
built by the hands of men and the industry and labour of 
workmen, and within three days I will build and set on foot 
another, not made with hands.’ This testimony was manifestly 
false; first, because our Saviour had not said that He could 
destroy, still less that He would destroy, the Temple , 22 but that 
after they had destroyed it He would set it up again; secondly, 
because He did not speak of the material Temple , 23 but of the 
temple of His Body, giving them to understand that after they 
had taken His life, He would rise again on the third day. But 
they, in order to distort the sense, and to show that He had 
spoken of the material Temple, added these words—‘I will 
destroy this Temple made with hands, and then I will build 
another made without hands,’ &c. This, therefore, was false 
testimony, concocted by them in malice, for they changed and 
added to the words which our Saviour had uttered, and per¬ 
verted the meaning and intention with which He had spoken 
according as seemed to them convenient, in order to make him 
hateful to the people, and to furnish better pretext to the 
judges to condemn Him. Nevertheless, they did not succeed 
in their attempt, because, in addition to their testimony being 
false, it was not sufficient nor apposite enough for them to 
condemn Him to death. 


21 St. Mark xiv. 58. 
23 Ibid. 21. 


20 St. Matt. xxvi. 60. 

22 St. John ii. 19. 



CHAPTER XII. 


The Priests condemn our Saviour and He is insulted and 
blasphemed. 

Amidst all these calumnies and the noise of false witnesses, 
who came and went, said their say and gave their accusations, 
our Saviour kept silence with as much calmness and tranquillity 
as though they were not speaking of Him. For as His first 
reply had been so ill received, it was manifest that the judges 
were not disposed to listen to the truth, and that the court was 
but an appearance of a tribunal, in truth a seat of violence and 
a robbers’ den, and as He saw He could not benefit those 
present by speaking, He resolved to benefit all the absent and 
all to come after Him by His silence and by the admirable 
example of His meekness and humility. But the High Priest, 
seeing that his schemes were being undone, and that he was 
not gaining his aim, and that the witnesses were not bringing 
forward matter or grounds on which to condemn Him, sought 
to find them in the words of our Saviour Himself. He was 
impatient and furious at seeing that He remained silent with so 
much constancy and firmness, and not being able to hide the 
disturbance of his mind , 1 he hastily rose from the seat which 
he unworthily filled, and with anger and rage he said to our 
Saviour, ‘Why art Thou silent? Wherefore dost Thou not 
speak ? What pride is this, or what acting and dissimulation ? 
Why dost Thou not answer for Thyself? Why dost Thou not 
reply even one word to so many accusations and testimonies as 
have been brought against Thee ?’ Jesus autem tacebat et nihil 
respondit -—‘Jesus was silent and answered nothing.’ Our 
Saviour still maintained silence, nor was it fitting that the Son 
1 St. Matt. xxvi. 62. 2 Ibid. 63 ; St. Mark xiv. 61. 


Silence of our Lord. 


I2 5 


of God should change His determination to be silent through 
fear of the anger of a man. He taught us here that silence 
gives great perfection and beauty to patience, that it is a great 
thing, amidst injuries, contempt, and insults, to persevere and 
suffer in silence, and that when the accusation is the most 
false and prejudicial, then so much the greater merit and justi¬ 
fication is gained by humility and meekness. He taught us, 
moreover, that to speak on such occasions is a dangerous 
thing, although it be to speak good words, because amongst 
them are often mingled others which ordinarily spring from our 
present annoyance and disturbance ; and that so it is far better 
and safer to be silent and not to speak, as the Prophet did 
when he says in the Psalm, 3 Posui ori meo custodiam , cum 
consisteret peccator adversum me. Obmutui et humiliatus sum y 
et silui a bonis. —‘1 have a set a guard to my mouth,’ he says, 
4 when the sinner made war against me. I was dumb in speech 
and humbled myself in my heart, and kept silence from good 
words, and my sorrow was renewed within me.’ 

Our Saviour at the same time manifested to us that great and 
never sufficiently praised meekness of His, which so long before 
had been foretold by the prophets, one of them saying, 4 Sicut 
ovis ad occisionem ducetur , et quasi agnus cora?n tondente se 
obmutescet , et non aperiet os suum —‘ He shall be led as a sheep 
to the slaughter, and shall be dumb as a lamb before His 
shearer, and He shall not open His mouth.’ And the holy 
King David, as though he himself had been present on this 
occasion, speaks as it were in the person of the Saviour, saying, 5 
Amici mei et proximi mei adversum me appropinquaverunt et 
steterunt , et qui juxta me erant de longe steterunt , et vim faciebant 
qui qucerebant animam meam. Et qui inquirebant mala mihi , 
locuti sunt vajiitates, et dolos tota die meditabantur. Ego autem 
tanquam swrdus non aitdiebam , et sicut mutns non aperiens os suum. 
Et Jactus sum sicut homo non audiens , et non habens in ore suo 
redargutiones — 1 My friends,’ he says, ‘ and my neighbours have 
drawn near and stood against me, and they that were near 
me stood afar off, and they that sought my soul used violence, 

3 Psalm xxxviii. 2. 4 Isaias liii. 7. 5 Psalm xxxvii. 12—15. 



126 


The Sacred Passion. 


and they that sought evil to me spoke vain things and studied 
deceit all the day long. But I, as a deaf man heard not, and 
as a dumb man not opening his mouth, and I became as a man 
that heareth not, and that hath no reproofs in his mouth,’ and 
this is literally what our Saviour did. 

The Chief Priest, tired of so many delays, now resolved to 
inquire of Him clearly that which he desired to hear from his 
own mouth before the Council. For he knew better than the 
witnesses that the crime which it was necessary to prove was 
that of blasphemy, in order that he might sentence Him to the 
penalty of death. Therefore, as they had heard Him say that 
He was the Son of God, which they looked upon as a great 
blasphemy, he determined to set the snare and forge the 
calumny on this point, as was afterwards seen in the accusation 
which they made before Pilate, when they said, 6 Secundum 
legem debet mori quia Filium Dei se fecit— 1 According to the law 
He ought to die, because He made Himself the Son of God.’ 
This then was the cause why the High Priest resolved to 
question Him directly upon this point, because if He were to 
deny it he would then convict Him of a lie, and if He 
confessed it, of wickedness; but that He might not defend 
Himself by silence, he used the strongest terms to oblige Him 
to answer, saying, 7 ‘I adjure Thee by the living God that Thou 
tell us if Thou be the Christ, the Son of God.’ 

Then our Saviour, because of the homage which He owed 
to His Father (in Whose name and by reverence to Whom He 
had been adjured), and also that He might not fall a point 
short of the truth which He had always preached, confessed it 
and did not deny it, although He knew that His confession 
would afford a pretext for condemning Him, and so He said, 8 
‘Thou hast said it.’ ‘I am He Whom thou hast said.’ 9 Then, 
that they might not be scandalized and prevented from believing 
the truth, because of the humility in which He then stood to be 
judged, He placed before their eyes the majesty with which He 
was soon to come in the clouds of heaven to judge the world, 

6 St. John xix. 7. 7 St. Matt. xxvi. 63. 8 Ibid. 64. 

9 St. Mark xiv. 62. 



Caiaphas rending his Garments: 


127 


for thus He said to them, ‘ I tell you of a truth, that very soon 
you will see the Man Who stands now humiliated before you, 
sitting at the right hand of the Eternal Father in an immoveable 
and everlasting kingdom, and coming in the clouds to be the 
judge of all mankind.’ 

The High Priest having heard this answer, with the same 
fury as he had shown on rising from his place, rent his garments 
with his own hands, an action and ceremony which they used 
to do when they heard any great blasphemy. Caiaphas, more¬ 
over, did this in order to render our Saviour’s cause worse, and 
condemn what He had said as an intolerable blasphemy. And 
in truth God permitted that he should lay bare his breast, that 
all the world might perceive it, how full it was of envy and 
iniquity. And that aged and blasphemous priest could not hear 
the greatest and most excellent truth of all truths without 
deeming it a great blasphemy. Thus, as through the confes¬ 
sion of this truth the Holy Catholic Church was founded upon 
St. Peter, so, through the denial of it as blasphemy the Synagogue 
was brought to an end in Caiaphas. And on this point it is 
much to be considered that, in the course of our Lord’s Passion 
the High Priest himself, with his own hands, rent his vestments, 
while not even the executioners themselves, who crucified our 
Lord, dared to rend His tunic. For the Catholic Church, 
which is 10 the vestment of the Lord, although it is persecuted 
and afflicted, yet being founded upon this faith and the confes¬ 
sion of the Son of God, will remain entire unto the end of the 
world, and all the power of hell shall not be able to prevail 
against her. 11 But the Synagogue, with its priesthood, cere¬ 
monies, and vestments, could not endure without being rent by 
the truth of the new and eternal Testament. 

The Chief Priest having torn his vestments as a sign that 
the answer was abominable in his eyes, entirely perverting the 
order of justice and converting his office of judge into that of 
accuser and witness, turned to the rest of the priests and 
lawyers who were there present, and said to them—‘What 
further need have we of witnesses? 12 What need have we of 

10 Isaias xlix. 18. 11 St. Matt. xvi. 18. 12 Ibid. xxvi. 65. 




128 


The Sacred Passion. 


them, since by His own saying He is convicted of that which 
we want ? Behold, now you have heard the blasphemy, what 
think ye? And what do you judge should be done in a case so 
clear and manifest?’ Then 13 they all, without one exception, 
condemned Him as guilty of death, and thus was fulfilled what 
our Lord Himself had said—‘The Son of Man 14 shall be 
betrayed to the Chief Priests, and the Scribes and Pharisees, 
and they shall condemn Him to death.’ The ministers and 
servants of the priests who were present, and w T ho were awaiting 
the result and the sentence of the council, now vented their 
rage upon Him as on a condemned criminal, with all kinds of 
blows and outrages; and we may understand, according to the 
text of the Evangelists, that even the priests themselves also 
took part in this. O ineffable patience of God! which in a 
certain manner was the cause of its own injury, for those ignorant 
and blind priests, persuaded that He must merit such treatment, 
since He suffered it, enraged also that such a Man should 
have revealed and reprehended their own vices, were impelled 
to vindicate their honour and revenge themselves on this 
occasion. Rising from the seats in which they had so un¬ 
worthily filled the post of judges, under cover of the night and 
the secrecy in which they had met, they let loose upon Him 
their rage and fury by blows and buffets, not having any 
respect to what became their own persons, or to what was due 
to the venerable Face of our Saviour! 

With this the assembly dispersed, all being first agreed to 
meet the next morning in full council to conclude the cause 
and give orders for the execution of the sentence. The sacri¬ 
legious Chief Priest and unjust judge betook himself to repose 
in his chamber, leaving the innocent Lamb of God and the 
Saint of Saints to the care of his guards and servants, who 
dragged Him out of the hall with great noise and much rude¬ 
ness. Then they took Him to some other little room, darker 
and dirtier, and worse furnished than the other, Ivhere they 
kept Him the remainder of that night as in prison, with gaolers 
and soldiers of the guard. And as they had Him there 15 they 
13 St. Mark xiv. 64. 14 St. Matt. xx. 18. 15 St. Luke xxii. 63. 



Insults of the Servants. 


129 


determined to divert themselves with Him during the night, 
and to overcome sleep by jokes and base outrages against the 
Lord of Majesty. For if we examine with attention what the 
Holy Evangelists say, we shall find, first, 16 that they mocked 
Him and scorned Him and made game of Him— Illudebant ei 
—this they did by calling Him names, hissing at Him, making 
jeers and grimaces at Him, and in a thousand other ways which 
the boys and lads and slaves and low people that are in the 
palaces of nobles use. Secondly, they spat upon Him 17 — Tunc 
exspuerunt in faciem ejus , et cceperunt quidam conspuere eum —vile 
and daring men with their filthy and nauseous spittle disfigured 
that sweetest countenance, on which, as St. Peter says, 18 the 
Angels desire to look. Thirdly, they struck Him 19 — Ccedentes 
—with blows and kicks; striking Him with their clenched fists. 
Fourthly, they covered His Face, to be able with greater liberty 
and less shame to execute their ill will—the wretched Jews thus 
condemning themselves never more to see light for ever. Having 
covered those Eyes 20 from which nothing is hid, some of them 
spat on Him, and others buffetted Him with open hands, thus 
causing Him much affront and no less pain. And because He 
had gone amongst the people with the fame and common repu¬ 
tation of a prophet, so for greater sport and scorn they struck 
Him and at the same time said 21 — 1 Prophecy to us now, 
O Christ, who was it who struck Thee?’ And many other things 22 
like these, to His dishonour and injury, they said against Him, 
blaspheming Him. And in this was manifested, on the one 
hand, the boldness, and on the other, the blindness and 
delusion of men who seek to give a blow to God, and yet to 
hide their hands, who think to blind the eyes of the Most High 
by their hypocrisy, and to prevent Him from seeing or under¬ 
standing their evil deeds. 

As to all these scoffings and blows we ought not to leave 
out what so many years before had been foretold by the Prophet 
Isaias, who beholding in spirit this scene saw not only that they 

16 St. Luke xxii. 63. 17 St. Matt. xxvi. 67 ; St. Mark xiv. 65. 

18 Epist. i. 12. 19 St. Luke xxii. 63. 

50 Heb. iv. 13. 21 St. Matt. xxvi. 68. 22 St. Luke xxii. 65. 

J 






130 


The Sacred Passion. 


struck Him and spat upon Him and insulted Him by words, 
but also that they pulled the hair of His head, and plucked His 
beard, and that He suffered all willingly and with the greatest 
constancy and firmness, and therefore he says 23 in the name of 
our Lord, Corpus meum dedi percutientibus , et genas meas velleii- 
tibus; faciem meum non averti ab increpantibus et conspuentibus 
in me —‘ I have given My body to the strikers, and My cheeks 
to them that plucked them ; I have not turned My face away 
from them that rebuked Me and spit upon Me.’ From this we- 
may much consider not only the great gentleness and humility 
of our Saviour, but also the magnanimity and constancy with 
which He held up His head firmly, without turning it away, or 
hiding it from them who spat upon Him and struck Him and 
buffetted Him. 

The guards who had the charge of our Saviour were changed 
at intervals throughout the night, some sleeping and others* 
watching; those who took the place of their fellows always 
bringing some new mischief and new invention of insult by 
which they all made themselves merry at the cost of our 
suffering Saviour, and the room in which they were resounding 
with laughter. In this way, and with this entertainment, all 
that night was passed, a night which had no morning dawn for 
the blind children of the blind Synagogue. 


23 Isaias 1 . 6. 



CHAPTER XIII. 


St. Peter denies our Saviour. 

The anguish of this night was increased by the denials of 
St. Peter, who being one of the most favoured and privileged 
of the Apostles, and having been, moreover, so often warned 
by our Saviour and put on his guard against the temptation 
which was to come upon him, yet there in His presence, and, 
as it were, beneath His very eyes, denied Him for very slight 
causes, not once, but three times, using many oaths and male¬ 
dictions to confirm his declaration that he knew Him not. It 
appears that the first denial took place at midnight, for 
although St.John 1 places it immediately after Peter entered the 
door, through the favour procured him by the other disciple 
from the keeper of the door, yet he puts it there because it was 
the portress who had opened to him the door that asked him 
the question. But she did not ask him when he first entered, 
but only after he was within the hall, as St. Mark says, 2 where 
the attendants and servants had lighted a fire 3 to protect 
themselves against the cold; and when the portress addressed 
him the question, as the Evangelists note, 4 Peter was warming 
himself at the fire in the midst of them. Thus it appears that 
the maidservant did not question him when he first entered, 
and when after he was already within, and that the first denial 
took place after midnight, when the cold was most severe. 
Again, St. Mark says, 5 that immediately after his denial he 
went out of the hall, and the cock crew the first time, and this 
first crow generally takes place after twelve o’clock, or about 

1 xviii. 17. 2 xiv. 66. 3 St. John xviii. 18. 

4 St. Mark xiv. 67; St. Luke xxii. 55. ? xiv. 68. 

J 2 



132 


The Sacred Passion. 


one o’clock in the morning. The third denial must have taken 
place about four o’clock, more or less, for all the Evangelists 
say 6 that immediately on his denying our Lord the third 
time, the cock crew. And St. Mark especially observes 
that it was the second time that it crew, because immediately 
after the first denial it had crowed the first time, and the 
second cockcrowing is generally a little before dawn, which 
would be about four o’clock in the morning. The second 
denial was made about an hour before the third, as St. Luke 
clearly says, 7 and according to this it would be near three 
o’clock, or thereabouts. From which it is manifest that when 
our Saviour said to St. Peter that before the cock crew- twice 8 
he would have denied Him thrice, He did not count the 
number of notes that the cock uses when it crows, for it crows 
several times together, and almost continuously, but only the 
two times at which the cock is accustomed to crow; one after 
midnight, and the other immediately before morning dawns. 
And in following the thread of the history we see that after the 
first time when the cock crew passed the whole time between 
the first and second denial, and that at least an hour passed 
between the second, and third. All, therefore, passed very 
quickly, and in a short space, and as the saying is, between 
night and morning. And to show that it was so, St. Luke calls 
the time which elapsed between the first and second denial 9 
ftusillum —‘a little time,’ and the same term is used by 
St. Mark 10 to signify the space which intervened between the 
second and the third denial. This is what wre may understand 
as to the time of the three denials. 

As to the place in which the denials were made, it appears 
to be most probable that they were all made in the open hall 
or court of the house of the Chief Priest, where the soldiers of 
the guard were generally stationed, with the other servants ot 
the priests who belonged to the council. In this court, on 
account of its being open to the sky, the custom in the palaces 
and large houses was to light a fire that all might warm 

6 St. Matt. xxvi. 74; St. Mark xiv. 72; St. Luke xxii. 60; St. John xviii. 7. 

7 xxii. 59. 8 St. Mark xiv. 30. 9 xxii. 58. 10 xiv. 70. 



Place of the Denials. 


*33 


themselves. We must also know that when Peter entered into 
the palace of the Chief Priest at the intercession of the other 
disciple, he did not go up nor into the inner and private hall, 
where the audience was being held, but remained with the 
other persons in the court, and thus it may with truth be said, 
that Peter was within and yet outside. He was inside the 
palace, because he had entered the house of the Chief Priest, 
and this is what St. John says, 11 that that disciple who was 
known to the High Priest entered with Jesus into the court of 
the house, and speaking to the portress, introduced Peter. It 
may also be said that he remained without, because he was 
outside the hall where the audience was being held, and where 
the priests were assembled in council. And this is what 
St. Matthew says, 12 that Peter sat without in the court. That 
the audience chamber to which our Saviour was taken was in 
the upper part of the house is sufficiently shown by what 
St. Mark 13 says, that Peter was in the court below. And if it 
be asked how it could be possible that our Saviour being 
inside some hall or chamber above, and Peter in the court 
below, our Saviour could yet look at him, as St. Luke says he 
did, 14 after he had denied Him the third time, St. Augustine 
answers this by saying that He looked at him spiritually, with 
the eyes of His divinity, helping him and favouring him with 
succours of His grace that he might come again to himself and 
repent. But although it be true that our Saviour looked at 
Peter in this manner, it is not to be denied that He also 
looked at him with, the eyes of Plis Body, which He was able 
to do in the way which we shall see by following the course 
of the history, which passed as we shall now say. 

Midnight having passed, when the enemies of our Lord, 
either conquered by sleep, or suffering from cold, or satiated 
and tired with mocking our Saviour, were relieving and 
changing places with one another; then, in the time which 
remained before morning, the Apostle denied Him three times, 
in order that there should not be wanting to Him even then 
matter for pain and grief. For whilst our Saviour was kept in 
11 xviii. 16. 12 xxvi. 69. 13 xiv. 66. 14 xxii. 61. 



T 34 


The Sacred Passion. 


another and more secret chamber, that He might be better 
guarded, Peter was sitting outside in the court, 15 where he had 
gained entrance through favour of the other disciple who was 
known to the High Priest. During the time of his waiting 
there, the officers who were in the court, and the servants of 
the house, had lighted a fire, 16 and had made a blaze in the 
midst of the court, 17 because it was cold, and had gathered 
round it, some seated, 18 others standing, 19 as people do to 
warm themselves. Peter, like one in whom the fire of the love 
of Christ had become cold, was standing with them to warm 
himself by the fire of the enemies of Christ. For he in whom 
interior consolation and the relish and love of interior things 
fails, soon begins to long for exterior consolations and sensual 
entertainments and delights. 

Then, as one of the maidservants of the High Priest (and 
it was 20 the portress who had permitted Peter to enter) saw 
him 21 sitting in the firelight with the others, she said to him, 
‘Wert thou not perchance one of the disciples of this man?’ 
and observing him closer, 22 and looking at him with greater 
attention and care, she herself affirmed it, saying, 23 ‘Yes, verily, 
thou art one of those who used to be with Jesus the Nazarene,’ 
and to those who were standing round she said, 24 ‘ This man 
also was one of those who used to go with Him.’ 

Peter, finding himself accused by the servant girl before so 
many persons, who on hearing the woman speak thus had 
turned round to look at and scrutinize him, was disheartened 
and full of fear, and denied before them all, and said—‘ I am 
not,’ ‘ I do not know Him,’ ‘Woman, I neither know Him nor 
understand what thou sayest.’ 25 

Oh, Peter, Peter! How short a time ago is it since thou 
saidst—‘ Although all should be scandalized, yet will not I be 
scandalized, and even though I should die for it with Thee, I 
will not deny Thee !’ Now thou art in no peril of death, the 

15 St. Matt. xxvi. 69. 16 St.John xviii. 18. 17 St. Luke xxii. 55. 

18 Ibid. ] 9 St. John xviii. 18. 20 Ibid. 17. 21 St. Luke xxii. 56. 22 Ibid. 

23 St. Matt. xxvi. 69 ; St. Mark xiv. 67. 24 St. Luke xxii. 56. 

25 St.Matt. xxvi. 70; St.John xviii. 17; St.Luke xxii. 57; St.Mark xiv. 68. 



The first Cockcrow. 


J 35 


Roman Governor does not examine thee, the High Priest of 
the Jews asks thee no questions, the soldiers do not menace 
thee, how is it that thy courage has failed thee at a question 
put to thee by a slave girl, and that thou dost not know how 
to reply to the words of a poor portress ? Oh, how vainly, and 
with how little foundation, does the weak man presume upon 
himself! how little occasion is enough to overcome him if he 
be not aided by the divine grace of God ! 

Those who were present having risen to their feet, Peter 
also rose 26 with them, after having uttered his denial, and to 
hide his emotion, remained warming himself at the fire; but 
his evil conscience would not allow him to rest long, for he 
instantly departed from them without being seen 27 and went 
out of the court to the entrance or portal of the palace, and 
whilst he was standing there the cock crew the first time, which 
would be just after midnight. 

The confusion and tumult reigning there would be great, on 
account of the number of people going in and out, and the 
different remarks that passed among them, and the various 
arguments they advanced and opinions which they gave, as is the 
case on similar occasions, in the houses of great people and 
among the officers and servants. Peter mingled amongst these 
people, partly desiring to keep himself concealed and fearing 
lest he should be recognized, and partly through anxiety to see 
what would be done with his Master. His conscience had 
remained ill at ease ever since his first denial, and so he could 
not rest in any place or anyhow, and so he would at one time 
seat himself, at another he would rise to his feet, now he would 
join in the arguments and talk to the servants, and now he 
would withdraw and flee from them, now he would come out 
of the court and now return thither, all in a great state of 
disturbance and terror. 

Matters were in this state when once, 28 not long after the 
first denial, that is, the same night about three in the morning, 
as he was going out of the gate, 29 another of the maidservants 

26 St. John xviii. 25. 27 St. Mark xiv. 68. 

28 St. Luke xxii. 58. 29 St. Matt. xxvi. 71. 



136 


The Sacred Passion. 


of the house observed him and said to those who were there 
present, ‘ This man also is one of those who were with Jesus of 
Nazareth.’ 30 Then on account of what this woman said he 
returned into the court, and whilst standing at the fire warming 
himself, 31 those who were gathered round it inquired of him, 
saying, ‘Art not thou also one of the disciples of this man?’ 
And he denied, saying ‘I am not.’ But one of them in parti¬ 
cular, 32 who either looked at him more attentively or knew him 
better, affirmed the contrary, saying, ‘Without doubt thou art 
also one of them.’ But he answered, ‘Leave me alone, O man ! 
for I am not,’ and he made oath, moreover, 33 ‘ that he knew 
not the man.’ 

Peter having experienced how great was his weakness by his 
first denial, ought to have fled at once from the place and from 
the conversation that had been the cause of so much injury to 
him; but as, on the contrary, he persevered in remaining on 
the spot, the occasion grew more dangerous and his fault also 
increased. On the first occasion it had been one woman or 
slave only who had asked him, and he had simply denied the 
truth, whereas on this second occasion, although it was another 
maidservant who began the subject, yet the bystanders insisted 
on the same charge, and he judged that it was requisite to give 
them greater satisfaction; so, like a man filled with fear, he con¬ 
firmed his denial with an oath, rendering thereby his fault the 
more heinous. In this he teaches us that weak men ought 
diligently to shun the occasions of sin, if they do not desire to> 
fall more seriously and heinously, as it happened to Peter, who,, 
remaining by the fire in conversation with those about him, 
denied his Master the third time, more shamefully than he had 
done on the first and second occasion. 

In a short time afterwards, 34 it might have been an hour, 3S ' 
one of those present insisted and said, ‘Of a truth 36 this man 
was also with Him, for it is easy to see that he is a Galilean.’ 
Then those who stood around, taking up his words, repeated 

30 St. Augustine, De Consens. Evang. lib. iii. cap. 6. 31 St. John xviii. 25.. 

32 St. Luke xxii. 58. 33 St. Matt. xxvi. 72. 34 Ibid. 73, 

35 St. Luke xxii. 59 - 3& Ibid. 



The third Denial ’ 


137 


them to Peter, saying, 37 ‘ Surely thou art one of them, for thou 
art a Galilean and thou canst not deny it, 38 for even thy speech 
doth discover thee.’ This they said because, although the 
Galileans spoke the Hebrew tongue, they did so with a well 
known pronunciation of their own. Whilst Peter was denying 
that he was one of those who went with our Saviour, there was 
there one of the servants of the High Priest, a kinsman of him 
whose ear Peter had cut off, and he pressed him hard, saying, 39 
‘ Thou canst not deny it, for I saw thee in the Garden in His 
company.’ Then Peter denied again, saying, 40 * Man, I under¬ 
stand not what thou sayest,’ and like a man altogether put out 
and desperate, 41 he began to make oaths and imprecations 
to confirm his statement that he neither knew nor had spoken 
with such a man. And immediately, before he had finished 
speaking, whilst the words were still in his mouth, the cock 
crew the second time, which would be before the dawn : that is 
to say at four o’clock in the morning. Peter having thus 
denied three times before the cock crew, the prophecy of the 
Heavenly Physician was fulfilled, and the sick man was con¬ 
victed of his vain presumption, because that had not been 
accomplished which he had imagined and promised he should 
do, when he said, ‘ I will go to death with Thee,’ but on the 
contrary, that which our Saviour had prophesied, ‘ three times 
thou shalt deny Me.’ And not without a cause is it that all the 
four Evangelists are unanimous and uniform in setting down 
the three denials of St. Peter, for the single purpose of teaching 
us and warning us what a great evil it is vainly to confide in 
and presume upon ourselves. 

Our Saviour remembered Peter, who was so forgetful of 
himself and of his good Master, and He turned His eyes merci¬ 
fully upon him, that He might shed light upon the darkness 
in which he was. And He gave His hand to him who had 
fallen, that He might set him once more on his feet. 42 Our 
Lord turned and looked on Peter, because although He was a 
prisoner and in bonds, in another and different chamber, it may 

37 St. Mark xiv. 70. 38 St. Matt. xxvi. 73. 39 St. John xviii. 26. 

40 St. Luke xxii. 60. 41 St. Matt. xxvi. 75. 42 St. Luke xxii. 61. 



138 


The Sacred Passion. 


well be probable that after the council had been dissolved, our 
Saviour was brought down to some lower chamber, one of those 
which opened on the court, where the lowest and humblest of 
the servants of the house were accustomed to dwell. Or, if it 
were not thus, it may be that after Peter had uttered his third 
denial, he, hearing the sound of the voices and the rude tumult 
amongst the guards who were mocking our Saviour, went up to 
see what was passing. At last he placed himself in such a 
position that our Saviour could see him, either through the door 
or in some other way, and although He was Himself in so 
much trouble, He succoured His disciple in the manner which 
He could, which was by His Eyes. Our Saviour then looked 
at St Peter (as St. Leo says), 43 and exposed as He was to the 
calumnies of the priests, to the lies and falsehoods of the 
■witnesses, and to the insults of those who spat upon Him and 
struck Him, He nevertheless set Himself to reason and expos¬ 
tulate with the disciple who was in trouble, by means of those 
same Eyes with which He had beheld so long before that 
so it would be with him. 

Our Lord looked upon Peter, and that look was so loving and 
efficacious, that the disciple understood immediately all that 
His Master wished to say thereby, and entered into himself 
and remembered the words our Lord had said and which he 
had not then believed, 44 4 Before the cock crow twice thou 
shalt have denied Me thrice.’ 

Et egressus for as flevit amarcP He wept bitterly for the 
clear knowledge which God had given him of the heinousness 
of his sin and of the majesty and goodness of the Lord Whom 
he had offended. He wept bitterly also, because his tears 
sprang from the sweetness of the love of his Master Whom he 
had denied. He considered how our Lord was the Son of the 
living God, and how he had confessed Him and known Him 
as such through Divine revelation, and he wept that he had 
denied Him through fear of men, Him Whom he knew and 
believed to be the very God. He recollected the words of 
eternal life which he had heard from Him, and the meekness 
43 Serm. iii. de Pas. 44 St. Mark xiv. 72. 45 St. Matt. xxvi. 75 - 



Tears of St. Peter. 


139 


and gentleness that he had experienced from Him, and for this 
also he wept bitterly. He counted over the singular benefits 
that he had received from Him, and the honour and favour 
which had been bestowed upon him above his fellows, and the 
gentleness and love with which his Master had foretold and 
warned him of his weakness. When too, in addition to all 
this, he remembered how many times, and for what slight 
causes, and with how much obstinacy he had disowned Him, 
and with what oaths and maledictions he had denied Him, the 
fire burnt within his heart and wounded him with the flames of 
grief and love, and caused fresh torrents of tears to flow from 
his eyes. And his grief and compunction were so great, that 
all his life long, when the cock crew in the morning, his heart 
gave way, and he wept anew over his crime as though he had 
never wept over it before. And it seems as if St. Mark observed 
on this when he says, that going out of the house of the High 
Priest he 1 began then to weep 46 —et ccepit flere —that is, he 
then began to weep, to continue the same during the rest of 
his life. 

Moreover, although this holy penitent was so wounded and 
became so full of compunction at this look of our Lord, yet he 
did not attempt, as he might have done, to make a public 
retractation, but preferred to go out from thence to weep in 
secret. For his fall had left him more humble and less confident 
in himself, and he did not wish to expose himself to further 
risk or make further proof of his weakness. Hereby he taught 
the weak to fly from occasions, and not to be filled with a 
desire to show themselves in public until they are fortified and 
clothed with strength from on high. As little did he attempt to 
throw himself at the feet of our Saviour and entreat of Him 
pardon and mercy, for he was full of shame and humility, and 
desired that his prayers and tears should supplicate for him, 
and obtain in his behalf that which for him to entreat so quickly 
after his crime appeared too great daring. With good reason 
he prayed and was silent, seeing that to weep for a fault is not 
to make excuses for it, and he who does not seek to excuse 
46 St. Mark xiv. 72. 



140 


The Sacred Passion. 


himself in words, cleanses himself and makes himself stainless 
by weeping. And that he might weep the better he went out, 
because although the confusion and tumult of the palace were 
suitable for denial, they were not so for tears, and the true 
penitent shows himself such by withdrawing from the occasions 
of sin. And to whom should he go for consolation but to the 
Blessed Virgin, the only refuge of sinners, to tell her all about 
his sorrow and his bitter grief? And then, animated by her 
most sweet words, he shut himself up in a cave to weep, with 
firm hope of obtaining pardon. 

Not without good reason did our Saviour permit such weak¬ 
ness in him whom He had marked out to be the foundation 
stone of the Church. And amongst other causes we may con¬ 
sider four. The first, that no one might confide presumptuously 
in himself, since even an Apostle who was so beloved and 
privileged fell, and so every one should lay to heart the advice 
of St. Paul—‘ Let him that thinketh to himself he standeth, take 
heed lest he fall.’ 47 The second, that no one should distrust 
God, though he finds he has fallen, since Peter, having com¬ 
mitted so great a fault, through tears and penitence regained 
his former grace and the old friendship of his Lord, and was 
made Prince of the Apostles, the Head of the Church, the 
Shepherd of the fold of Christ, and depositary of the keys of 
the Kingdom of Heaven. The third, that the Apostle might 
remain ever humble and more circumspect, as St. Augustine 
says, 4S in these words, Audeo dicere superbis esse utile cadere in 
ciliquod apertum manifestumque peccatum , unde sibi displiceant , 
qui jam sibi placendo ceciderant; salubrius enim Petrus sibi 
displicuit quando jlevit , quam sibi placuit quando prcesumpsit — 1 1 
am bold to declare,’ says the Saint, ‘ that it is profitable for the 
proud to fall into some open and manifest sin, that so they 
may be displeased with themselves who by taking pleasure in 
themselves have come to fall, for it was more profitable for 
Peter to be displeased with himself when weeping over his 
fault, than it was profitable to him to have been pleased with 
himself when presuming on his own constancy. The fourth reason 
47 1 Cor. x. 12. 48 Civit. Dei , c. xiii. 



Mercifulness of true penitence. 


141 


is given by St. Gregory, 49 Ut is qui futurus erat Pastor Eulesitz 
in sica culpa disceret qualiter aliis misereri debuisset —‘ That he,’ 
says the Saint, ‘ who was destined to be the Shepherd of the 
Church, might learn by his own fault how to compassionate 
.those who fall; ’ for the mercy which our Saviour showed to 
St. Peter was in every way great and worthy of eternal memory. 
The servant denies his Lord, Who dies innocent for his sake, 
and in the midst of the death which the Lord is suffering, and 
of the fault which His servant is committing, He looks on him 
to save him, and gives him His hand that he may not be utterly 
lost. Such, and of so great compassion was it fit that the Lord 
of Life should be, and so full of pity was it meet that the shep¬ 
herd should be who had in His place to feed His flock, that 
he might remember the mercy that had been shown him by his 
Master, and so never forsake any one of his sheep, however 
weak, rebellious, or farstraying it may have been. 


49 Horn. xxi. in Evcing. 



CHAPTER XIV. 


On the Love with which Christ our Lord stiffered for men?- 

Our Saviour passed all that night in the power of those who 
were insulting Him and afflicting Him, thinking thoughts of 
peace and not of affliction or vengeance, for nothing could have 
put force upon Him, and it was of His own will that He 
delivered Himself up for the love of God and men. Although, 
on the one hand, He permitted His most holy Humanity to feel 
sorrow, yet on the other hand, His love was so great and burn¬ 
ing, that it wrought in Him a most ardent thirst for injuries and 
a great hunger for afflictions. So, then, during this night He 
had His Heart filled with joy and consolation, baptizing Him¬ 
self, as He said, 2 with this baptism, and, as the Prophet wrote, 3 
satiating Himself with outrages. This love of Christ, as the 
Apostle says, 4 surpasseth all knowledge and conception, because 
the fountain whence it proceeds is above all knowledge and 
understanding. For it is not founded nor upheld on the per¬ 
fection, the beauty, or merits of man, since he is a creature so 
low and so imperfect in his body, and as regards his soul a vessel 
full of iniquity, that it would not be possible to love him for his 
own sake, especially as this Divine Lover is neither blind, nor led 
by passion, nor capricious, so as to be able to love a creature so 
mean and so little deserving. This love of Christ our Lord for 
men was founded on the love which His Eternal Father felt for 
them, and on the excellent benefits by which He had bound 
Him to Himself. For the gifts which our Lord, as Man, had 
received from His Father, being so many and illustrious, and 
the gratitude and love He felt for them being so great, out of 

1 Taken from M. Avila’s Treatise on the Love of God. 

2 St. Luke xii. 50. 3 Lament, iii. 30. 4 Eph. iii. 19. 


Graces of the Sacred Humanity. 


143 


respect and reverence for Him, He loved man above all know¬ 
ledge and above all estimation. 

In order to understand this truth to its very root, and so 
the more to glorify our Lord, while His enemies are mocking 
Him, we ought to consider the inestimable greatness of the 
graces which were granted by the most Holy Trinity to the 
Humanity of Christ our Lord in the instant of His conception. 
For, in the first place, when the Divine Person was united 
thereto, there was given to that Humanity the Divine Essence,, 
so that we may with truth say that that Man is really God, and 
the Son of God, and to be adored in heaven and on the earth 
as God. It is clear that this grace was infinite, on account of 
the gift which was bestowed by it, which was no less than the 
Essence of God, and also because of the manner in which it 
was given, which was by the most entire and intimate union 
which can be imagined, that is to say, by means of Personal 
union. 

It was also given to that new Man to be the universal 
Father and Head of all men, so that virtue should flow down 
unto them all from Him as their spiritual Head, so that as God 
He is equal to the Eternal Father, and as Man He is the Prince 
and the Head of all men. In conformity, therefore, to this 
there was given to Him infinite grace, that from Him, as from 
a fountain of grace and a sea of sanctity, all men might receive 
grace, and this not only because in Him there was greater grace 
than in all men, but also because He was to be the Sanctifier 
of all, and so to say, a glowing furnace of sanctity whence all 
those who are to be saints must receive their bright enamel of 
holiness. There was, moreover, given to Him another particular 
grace, for the perfection and sanctification of His life, which 
grace may likewise be termed infinite, because nothing can ever 
be added to it. Beyond all this there were bestowed upon Him 
at that time all the graces —gratis data —of working miracles 
and wonders as many as He wished ; and all these were given 
to Him in the highest degree and in supreme perfection. Added 
all this, there was given to Him at the same moment to see 
clearly the Divine Essence and to know perfectly the majesty 



144 


The Sacred Passion. 


and glory of the Word, with Whom He was one; and that thus 
beholding God He should be in the possession of beatitude and 
filled with as much glory as He possesses now that He is seated 
at the right hand of the Father. 

Now when this holy Soul, in that blessed moment that It 
was created, opened Its eyes and beheld Itself so enriched as we 
have said; when He knew from Whose hands He had received 
so many benefits, and found Himself raised to the first place 
among all created beings; and when He saw kneeling before 
Him, all the hierarchies of heaven, who, as St. Paul says, 5 
adored Him, is it possible, think you, to describe the love with 
which that Soul would love Him Who had so highly glorified 
Him, and with what desires He would long that something might 
be offered to Him by which He might show gratitude to and 
serve such a Benefactor? There are no tongues of Cherubim 
and Seraphim that could declare this. 

Then, if in answer to these great desires of this holy Soul, it 
had been declared and revealed that the will of God was to save 
the human race, which had been lost through the fault of a man, 
that He was to be charged with this undertaking for His honour 
and obedience, and that He must embrace with all His Heart 
this glorious enterprize, and not weary of it till He had brought 
it to a conclusion : moreover, that He must love all men as a 
thing commended to Him by His Father, with so much love 
and desire that, in order that they might be healed and restored 
to glory, He would willingly do and suffer all that was neces¬ 
sary to this end ; tell me now, as soon as that holy Soul, so 
desirous to please the Eternal Father, knew all this, with what 
kind of love would He not turn to men to love and embrace 
them, through obedience to His Father? There is no language 
or power in creation which can declare all this, because on the 
part of God there was the highest possible communication of 
His benefits, and on the part of Christ our Lord there was .the 
most perfect correspondence, thankfulness, and love. 

From this fountain flowed that great and abundant stream 
of love, which our Saviour shed forth on all mankind, because 
5 Heb. i. 6. 



Our Lord's Care for Mm. 


H 5 


He regarded them as a gift bestowed on Him by His Eternal 
Father. The Gospel is full of this, for in one place it says, 0 
Omnia mihi tradita sunt a Patre meo. That is, all men and all 
things which belong to them have been given and recommended 
to Me by My Father. And for what end were they given, if 
not for that of which our Saviour Himself speaks ? Hcec est 
autem voluntas ejus , 7 qui misit me , Patris, ut omne , quod dedit 
mihi , non perdam ex eo. As if He had said, Ut ex eo omni nihil 
perdam. ‘ This is,’ He says, ‘ the will of My Father Who has 
sent Me, that of all those which He has commended to Me, 
not one should be lost,’ but as when He gave and commended 
them to Him they were already lost, the commending them that 
they should not be lost was as though He had commended them 
that they should be saved. Again, Non enim misit Deus Filium 
suum in mundurn , ut judicet mundum , sed ut salvetur mundusper 
ipsum 8 —‘For God did not send His Son into the world to 
judge and condemn it for its sins, but that the world might be 
saved through Him.’ Therefore it is, that at His first coming 
He sent Him not as Judge but as Saviour. 

It was this same recommendation by His Eternal Father 
which made Him so solicitous in the work of our Redemption, 
as St. John observes, when He says, 9 Sciens quia oimiia dedit ei 
Pater in manus. For He knew that His Father had committed 
all men to Him, and had placed in His hands all that belonged 
to their redemption. For this it was that He rose from supper, 
and put off His garments, and girded Himself with a towel, and 
did not disdain to perform a work of so much humility as that 
of washing the feet of His disciples. For this same cause He 
says it was that He had preached to them, 10 Manifestavi nomen 
tuum hominibus quos dedisti mihi —‘I have preached Thy Name 
to those whom Thou gavedst and recommendest to Me.’ For 
the self same cause also He prayed for them, 11 Non pro mundo 
rogo , sed pro his , quos dedisti mihi, quia tui sunt —‘ I do not 
pray,’ says our Lord, ‘for the world, but for those disciples 
whom Thou hast given Me, for they are Thine and Thou hast 

6 St. Matt. xi. 27. 7 St. John vi. 39. 8 Ibid . iii. 17. 

9 Ibid. xiii. 3. 10 Ibid. 11 Ibid. xvii. 19. 

K 




146 


The Sacred Passion. 


committed them to Me.’ Finally, for the same cause He offered 
Himself up for them, 12 Et pro eis ego sanctijico meipsum. 
Which was as though He had said, 4 For them I offer Myself 
in sacrifice.’ And when they were about to take Him that He 
might be sacrificed, for this cause it was that He came forward 
in defence of His own, 13 Si ergo me quceritis , sinite hos abire. Ut 
impleretur sermo quern dixit: quia quos dedisti mihi , non perdidi 
ex eis quemquam. He took this care, says the Evangelist, that 
that might be fulfilled of which He had spoken when praying 
to His Father— 4 Of those which Thou hast given Me, Father, 
not one of them has been lost through My fault’ And this 
was one especial reason why He was so grieved at the perdition 
of Judas, in order that, Judas being a thing recommended to 
Him by His Father, it might not appear that He had shown 
less care in preserving and watching over him, since although 
He had employed so many means to gain him, He nevertheless 
took pains to give a satisfactory explanation how he had been 
after all actually lost, because so it behoved Him to leave hirn 
in his hardness of heart, that the Scripture might be fulfilled, 14 
Quos dedisti mihi custodivi , et 7iemo ex eis periit , nisi jilius per- 
ditionis , ut Scriptura impleatur — 4 Those whom Thou gavest Me, 
Father, I have kept with care, and not one of them is lost, but 
the son of perdition, as it was written that so it should be, and 
thus, it turning out as it did, the Scripture is fulfilled.’ 

From this same fountain sprang, not only the love which # 
He felt for men, but that also which He felt for the pains and 
outrages and the other sufferings which it was proper that He 
should undergo for the welfare and redemption of men. And 
this it is that He said when He entered upon His Passion, 15 
4 That the world may know that I love the Father, and according 
as the Father has given Me commandment, so I accomplish it 
and do. Arise, let us go hence.’ Whither? to die for man upon 
a cross. So great was the eagerness which He felt to offer His 
Father this service that He exclaimed, 16 4 1 have a baptism 
wherewith I am to be baptized, and how am I straitened until 

12 St. John xvii. 19. 13 Ibid, xviii. 8. 14 Ibid. xvii. 12. 

15 Ibid. xiv. 34. 16 St. Luke xii. 50. 



Love of the Cross. 


147 


it be accomplished !’ For so great was the desire He had to 
see Himself bathed in His own blood, that each hour which 
delayed it seemed to Him a thousand years, through the 
greatness of His love. Hence, too, came that glorious festal 
procession of palms with which He desired to be received when 
He entered into Jerusalem to suffer, that so He might teach 
the world the gladness of His Heart; and for the same reason 
He desired to mount the bridal bed of the cross amidst the 
acclamations of the people and encircled with roses and flowers. 

This is that power which is signified by the Prophet, when 
he says 17 —‘ He hath rejoiced as a giant to run His way. His 
going out is from the end of heaven, and His circuit even unto 
the height thereof, and there is no one that can hide himself 
from His heat.’ O love divine, which earnest forth from God 
and retumest to God ! Because Thou didst not love man for 
man, but for God ! Who is there that can hide himself from 
Thy heat, and defend himself against Thy love? For Thy 
charity is so burning, and so mightily kindled that it does 
violence to our hearts, as Thy Apostle felt when he said 18 
—Caritas Christi urget ?ios. 

Hence also may be drawn a new argument, whereby to know 
something of the most excellent charity of Christ and the ardent 
desire He had to suffer. For this charity so constrained the 
Apostle St. Paul, and love put so much force upon him, that 
he despised hunger and thirst, persecutions and the sword, life 
and death itself, in order to satisfy His love, and even desired 
to suffer the sensible pains of hell themselves , 19 Optabam enirn 
ego ipse anathema esse a Christo pro fratribus meis —that is, he 
desired, for the sake of his brethren, to be separated from 
Christ, as regarded the participation of glory, although not as 
regarded love and grace. And what shall we say of the Apostle 
St. Andrew, who seeing the cross on which he was to die, 
saluted it joyously with loving courtship, as a well beloved 
spouse, and asked it to rejoice with him as he rejoiced with 
it ? Take to thyself then, wings, O my soul, and ascend this 
ladder until thou reach the tender Heart of Christ, and reflect 

17 Psalm xviii. 6. 18 2 Cor. v. 14. 19 Rom. ix. 3. 

K 2 



148 


The Sacred Passion. 


that if the Apostle St Andrew rejoiced over the cross for the 
sake of the love he felt for his Master Who had died upon it, 
and if the Apostle St. Paul felt such great love for men that he 
verily and indeed desired to suffer the pains of hell for their 
sakes, how much greater must have been the longing of Christ, 
since, so far greater was His grace and His charity ? 

The Patriarch Jacob served his father in law, Laban, for 
seven years, that he might wed the beautiful Rachel, with so 
much toil , 20 that he slept not at night nor rested by day, and 
was scorched with heat and with frost; and yet with all this 
the seven years appeared but a few days , 21 because of the 
greatness of the love which he bare her. What then must 
have seemed to our Saviour one night of abuse and three hours 
of the Cross, and, in short, one day of Passion, as the price at 
which He might espouse His Church and make her so beau¬ 
tiful 22 that there should not be found in her either spot or 
wrinkle ? Without doubt He loved much more than He 
suffered, and there remained far greater love shut up in His 
Heart than that which He showed outwardly in His wounds. 
And if as they ordered that He should suffer one death, so 
they had ordered Him to suffer a thousand deaths, He had 
love enough for all; and if what they ordered Him to suffer for 
the salvation of all men that same they had ordered Him to 
suffer for each one of them, He would have done it for one as 
for all; and if, as He remained three hours hanging on the 
Cross, so it had been necessary for Him to remain there until 
the end of the world, He had love enough for all had it been 
necessary for us. 

It being so, then, that all that our Lord suffered was much 
less than that He loved and desired to suffer—if this little spark 
of love which He has shown us outwardly in this manner has 
been so astonishing to men as to be 23 a scandal to the Jews 
and folly to the Gentiles, whaPwould it have been if He had 
made another manifestation which would have revealed more 
fully all the greatness of His love ? And if His love was such 
that it has made wicked men lose their sense, and become 
2e Gen. xxxi. 40. 21 Ibid . xxix. 20. 22 Eph. v. 27. 23 1 Cor. i. 32. 



Rejoicing in Sha7ne. 


*49 


blind in the midst of light, what ought His children and His 
friends to feel and to do, who have so fully believed and know 
so much of His love ? This it is which has made them as it 
were beside themselves, and put them into a state of astonish¬ 
ment and stupor when they have retired into their own 
hearts, and God has discovered to them these secrets and has 
given them to understand these mysteries. Hence it has been 
that they have melted away in tears, and been set on fire with 
love ; hence their desire for martyrdom, their rejoicing in 
tribulations, their delighting in injuries, their welcoming and 
embracing all that the world abhors and fears, their loving and 
desiring all that Christ our Lord has desired and loved. 

Here also is revealed another reason which our Saviour had 
for making Himself so joyfully, on this night of His Passion, 
the mark for all the mockings, blows, and j eers of that vile and 
disorderly crowd. For with ineffable joy of heart He saw in 
all which took place in His Person, the image of a world 
renewed and of spiritual men, who in considering what He 
suffered would have their hearts inflamed with charity, and 
burning in this furnace of love would be transformed into His 
image and likeness, abhorring honour because the world did not 
offer it to Him, and loving and seeking dishonour because that 
was His portion. For this cause He permitted Himself with so 
much meekness to be dishonoured, and allowed Himself with 
so much constancy and fortitude to be struck, not seeking to 
protect His body from blows, or to turn away His face from 
spitting, because He saw and knew that by the hand of these 
ministers of ill the Eternal Father was fashioning in Him the 
exemplar and the pattern of all the predestinated. 

Finally, we ought to consider how great was the pleasure 
which the Eternal Father took in all that His Son suffered, how 
He felt Himself honoured by His obedience, humility, and 
meekness, and how He was preparing and devising the honour 
with which He would honour Him in recompense for this dis¬ 
honour, and all the holy services of praise which would be sung 
perpetually in heaven and earth for the insults and revilings 
which were then uttered against Him. 



CHAPTER XV. 


Our Saviour is co7idemncd by the whole Council. 

The next day now dawned—the Friday, a day most unfortu¬ 
nate for that blind and reprobate people, which was therein to 
commit a crime so horrible, and to merit so severe a punish¬ 
ment ; a day, on the other hand, most blessed throughout all 
ages, since in it an end was to be put to sin, the world was to 
be redeemed, and the gate of heaven, which till then had been 
closed, was to be thrown open. Although, on the night before, 
the Council had met in the house of Caiaphas, and a great 
number of false witnesses had been sought for and examined, 
still, that a better colour might be given to their proceedings, 
and that the people might be persuaded to their wickedness, it 
was determined that as soon as morning came another full 
Council should be assembled 1 in the accustomed place, and 
that the cause of our Saviour should be therein examined with 
more of juridical forms, and with less appearance of disturb¬ 
ance and passion ; all with the intention of condemning Him 
to death and handing Him over to the secular arm of the 
Romans. And though it is true that the members of the 
Council were most of them old men, or at least advanced in 
years, and that they had been up very late the night before, 
both for the apprehending of our Lord and in the council 
which had been held in the house of the High Priest, still 2 
the morning had hardly come before they had all again 
assembled in council, so solicitous and diligent were they in 
the execution of their iniquity. 

This Council, in the opinion of many, was not held in the 
house of the High Priest (where our Saviour had been kept 
1 St. Matt, xxvii. I. 2 St. Mark xv. I. 


Our Lord in the Streets. 


151 


during the night), but in a certain place which was set apart 
for that purpose, such as the Courts of Law of the present day. 
The Judges having met in this court, and being seated in due 
order, the prisoner was cited to appear before the Council. 
They dragged Him from the prison in which He had been 
thrown, and hurried Him through the street surrounded by a 
large body of guards, and with great shouting and cries, as well 
as with the utmost scorn and ignominy. It was already clear 
day, and the people crowded into the streets and to the 
windows to see so new and extraordinary a trial of a person so 
well known and so much esteemed for the opinion entertained 
of His sanctity. Our Saviour came forth with His hands fast 
bound, and a rope round His neck, a penalty which was 
inflicted on persons who abused their natural liberty to the 
detriment of the common weal. He came forth frozen with 
cold, His face disfigured with blows and spitting, His beard 
and hair torn by plucking, His cheek marked by weals, and all 
disfigured with the clotted and congealed blood which the 
strokes He had received had caused to flow. In this manner 
our Saviour proceeded in public through the streets, to the 
astonishment and fear of all, who in the terrible treatment to 
which He had been subject could not avoid seeing a manifest 
intention to condemn Him. 

The report of what was taking place in the city doubtless 
reached the ears of the Blessed Virgin. She was told how her 
Son had been taken out of prison, and how they were leading 
Him through the streets to answer for Himself before the 
Council; and the heart of that most loving Mother was pierced 
with the thought of the pain and travail of so dear a Son, and 
she determined to come forth out of her retreat, and to seek 
some relief in seeing what she yet could not behold without 
the deepest grief. With her also came Mary Magdalene and 
the other holy women, accompanied by the Apostle St.John; 
whilst the rest of the Apostles went singly through the streets, 
taking care to conceal themselves among the people, and 
trying to see in what this business would end. But the Blessed 
Virgin, our Lady, with her heart closely clinging to that of her 



152 


The Sacred Passion. 


Son, went on her way to see Him, with so much modesty and 
prudence that the furious crowd could take no opportunity of 
addressing any insults to her, or of showing her any disrespect. 
Now it is a wonderful thing, and worthy of deep consideration, 
that though the Blessed Virgin, our Lady, was present during 
the course of the Passion, and stood so near the foot of the 
Cross, and though the multitude "was so enraged and furious, 
yet our Saviour had so much care for the honour and respect 
which were due to His Mother, that He did not permit any 
one to misbehave himself to her even by a single little word of 
insolence. All her cross and all her martyrdom were to be 
in her heart, within which she offered to the Eternal Father, 
with the most profound humility and the most burning love, 
her owm Son, and together with Him she offered her own 
heart, full of agony, but still surrendered with the most perfect 
obedience to His holy will. 

Our Saviour having been placed as a criminal before the 
whole Council, they commanded that He should be unbound, 
a ceremony usual in the case of delinquents when their 
confession was taken down, in order that they might answer 
with entire liberty. It appears that they did this in the case of 
our Saviour, because at the conclusion of the council it is 
stated that they bound Him anew, as St. Mark observes , 3 that 
He might be delivered to the Governor. After He was 
unbound and His chains removed, they did not seek or 
interrogate any false witnesses, but in conformity with what 
had been the course taken the night before and its issue, they 
inquired of Him in the name of the Council 4 — £ If Thou be 
the Christ, tell us.’ They had addressed the same question to 
Him another time, when they sought Him in the Temple, and 
had said to Him 5 — 4 How^ long dost Thou hold our souls in 
suspense? If Thou be the Christ, tell us plainlyand He 
told it them in such clear words that from His answ r er it resulted 
that they regarded Him as a blasphemer, and sought to stone 
Him as such. The stones which they then took in their hands 
without using, they now r desired to cast at Him, and put Him 
3 xy. i. 4 St. Luke xxii. 66. 5 St John x. 24. 



The Second Condemnation. 


153 


to death actually, therefore they asked of Him again as they 
had done before—‘ If Thou be the Christ, tell us plainly.’ 

Our Lord, Who saw into their hearts, replied 6 — 4 1 know 
well that if I tell you you will not believe it on My word alone; 
and if I were to go about to prove it by reasons and testi¬ 
monies drawn from the Law and the Prophets, and through 
them were to question and press you, still you would not 
answer Me, nor even on that account set Me at liberty. But 
although on this account you are not worthy to hear the truth 
as to which you inquire, since you desire to know it only to 
calumniate it, and to condemn Me through its means, it is 
nevertheless right that none should deem that it is through 
fear or any other reason I shrink from testifying to this truth, 
after having been questioned and examined upon it. I tell 
you, therefore, of a truth, that the Man Whom you see here in 
humiliation and about to be judged by you, Him you shall 
soon see sitting at the right hand of the Power of God to be 
your Judge and the Judge of all the world.’ 

Having heard this answer, so full of modesty and truth, 
the Judges, in order to give more force to their calumnious 
sentence and make their accusation more hateful, asked Him 
again, 7 4 Art Thou then the Son of God ?’—showing at the same 
time, by their manner of speaking, their scorn and derision for 
His folly and falsehood, and that, for having given Himself out 
as the Son of God, and said that He should come seated on 
the clouds of heaven, at the right hand of God, He should see 
Himself between two thieves, raised upon a cross. Therefore, 
with covert irony, they asked Him—‘ Art Thou then the Son 
of God?’ As if they had said—‘Thou, the Son of a poor 
artizan, Thou, a man of bad behaviour, a glutton and a wine- 
bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners, Thou, Who art 
possessed by a devil and a blasphemer? Shalt Thou sit at the 
right hand of God? Shall we behold Thee coming in the 
clouds? We desire to see Thee, in the midst'of other thieves, 
hanging in the air, and not in the clouds or at the right hand 
of God.’ Although our Saviour knew the malice of this, 
6 St. Luke xxii. 67. 7 Ibid. 70. 



i54 


The Sacred Passion. 


question, and the false charge which they would found upon it, 
He nevertheless answered them the truth with the same firm¬ 
ness with which He had replied the night before—‘You say 
that I am He,’ which is the same as though He had said—‘ I 
am He Whom you speak of.’ 

As soon as they had heard this answer, and that He 
affirmed and ratified what He had said, they spoke one with 
another, and said, ‘ What need have we of witnesses, since we 
ourselves can witness that we have heard from His own mouth 
what is sufficient for His condemnation?’ Two things they 
had heard which they turned into subjects of accusation against 
Him afterwards. The first was, that He was the Christ and the 
anointed King of the Jews. The second, that He was the Son 
of God. This second assertion was, in their opinion, a crime 
against God, for which, according to the law of God, He merited 
death as a blasphemer; the other was a crime of treason 8 against 
Caesar, for which He incurred the penalty of the cross, according 
to the Roman law. Armed, then, with these two accusations, 
they determined to bring the accused before the Governor, that 
the sentence might be executed upon Him. 


Crimen Icesce Majestatis. 



CHAPTER XVI. 


Our Saviour is brought before the Governor , and Judas 
hangs himself. 

There is much matter for reflection in the circumstance that 
the business of our Lord’s deliverance to Pilate was not put 
into the hands of three or four commissioners, or of the ordi¬ 
nary ministers of justice, to be transacted by them in the name 
of the Council with the Governor, but that the whole assembly 
of the Judges, of the Ancients and Scribes and High Priests, 1 
and, in a word, the whole Council, as they were assembled to 
give judgment, now rose up without judgment, and spurred on 
by their passion and fury, led Him themselves to Pontius Pilate 
the Governor. They did this to give eclat and sensation to the 
business, and better to ensure its success, as well as to put 
more pressure upon the Governor and force him to despatch 
it without interposing delay. So in order to bring to a head at 
once the matter now that it was in such good train, to smooth 
all difficulties as soon as they arose, and take counsel and 
prompt decision upon them, they removed the Assembly from 
its proper place and seats, and made it locomotive and trans¬ 
ferable, making themselves accusers as well as judges, solicitors 
and advocates, canvassing and suborning the people. In this 
manner our Saviour was taken to the praetorium of Pilate, 
accompanied by the greatest and chiefest personages of Jeru¬ 
salem. Then was fulfilled that which He had said, 2 that the 
chief of the priests should deliver Him to the Gentiles, and 
which also in a figure had been prophesied of Him in the 
sacrifices of the Lamb, 3 Immolabitque eum universa midtitudo 
1 St. Luke xxii. 71; xxiii. I. 2 St. Matt. xx. 19. 3 Exodus xii. 6. 


The Sacred Passion. 


156 


filiorum Israel— that is, that He should be sacrificed by the 
whole multitude of the children of Israel. 

They put our Saviour again in bonds for this march along 
the streets from the court of the Council to the prsetorium of 
Pilate—that is, they would put His hands and His neck in 
chains of iron, as may be understood from the words of the 
Evangelists, Vincientes Jesnm, et vinctum adduxerunt eump et 
tradiderunt Po?itio Pilato prcesidi. For it was the custom 
thus to bind criminals with chains when they were handed 
over by the ecclesiastical to the secular arm, as a sign that 
their cause had been already tried, and that they had been 
convicted and condemned. The day was farther advanced 
when our Saviour was brought from the Council, and thus 
rumours of what was taking place had spread more widely 
throughout the city, so that the tumult and the multitudes of 
people who assembled to see this spectacle were much greater 
than before. And all regarded the matter as concluded, and 
our Saviour as condemned to death, since the whole Council 
had condemned Him, and were taking Him bound to the 
Governor that the sentence might be executed. This is what 
St.John says, 5 Adducunt ergo Jesum a Caiapha in prcetorium. 
Not because they were taking Him from the house of Caiaphas, 
but only from the place of the Council, and it was tantamount 
to saying that on this occasion our Saviour was taken from the 
ecclesiastical jurisdiction (the head of which was Caiaphas as 
High Priest) and was delivered to the Gentiles. 

It does not appear that Judas thought, or at least had per¬ 
suaded himself, that this business would go so far, or that the 
malice and passion of the priests were so great that they desired 
really in effect to put our Saviour to death, but rather that they 
would content themselves with some other and more moderate 
penalty, such as exile, or infamy, or corporal punishment. But 
as he kept watching 6 what they were doing, and saw that on the 
night before they had condemned Him to death in the house 
of Caiaphas, and how all the Council had now confirmed the 
sentence, and were carrying Him to the house of Pilate, that it 
4 St. Matt, xxvii. 2. 5 xviii. 28. 6 St. Matt, xxvii. 3. 



Repentance of Judas. 


157 


might be put in execution, with an obstinate determination not 
to desist till their command was complied with—then the devil, 
who had blinded him and had entered into his heart to make 
him commit so abominable a treason, took firmer possession 
of him than ever, opening his eyes that he might know and 
abhor his crime, with disturbed and unquiet soul, and, full of 
sentiments proper to hell, might give himself up to despair. For 
the wretched man, now that he recognized his crime, and was 
sorry that he had committed it, might have grieved for it from 
love of the Lord Whom he had offended, and wept for it before 
God with the grief and bitterness of St. Peter, and have had 
recourse in his misery to the Blessed Virgin, who, although so 
grievously offended at him, would have been a means of his 
obtaining pardon and restoration to the favour of her Son. But as 
he was a man who had always been false and deceitful, and had 
walked with hypocrisy and feigning in the school of our Lord, 
therefore on this occasion he deserved not but to be forsaken 
and to miss his chance of entering into the right path. For he 
did not grieve over his sin from regard to God and with a pure 
will to serve Him and amend himself, nor was his repentance 
that of a true and profitable penitence, but only a profound 
sorrow and desperate sinking of heart, knowing the enormous 
fault he had committed, for which he grieved for his own sake, 
because he felt ashamed and dishonoured by having done it, 
and because men would reasonably abhor him for his iniquity. 
So in order to have done with them and with himself, he took 
a way whereby he succeeded in losing himself altogether. 

For in the first place he attempted to undo the evil bargain 
which he had made, by returning to the High Priests their 
money, it seeming to him that he would free himself from being 
guilty of the evils which our Saviour might suffer in His Person 
for the future if he broke the contract, restoring the sum that 
he had received for Him. With this resolve he betook himself 
to the priests 7 when they were in the midst of all their heat and 
fury accusing our Lord in order to have Him put to death, 
and he gave them back the thirty pieces of silver, saying, ‘ I 
7 St. Matt, xxvii. 3. 



The Sacred Passion. 


158 


have sinned, for I have delivered to death a just and innocent 
Man.’ It was as if he had said, 4 God will not be pleased that 
money so ill gained should remain in my possession, still less 
that on account of it I should be responsible for what this just 
Man suffers without His own fault, or that you should have 
any excuse for your malignity, by saying that I who knew Him 
and was His disciple have delivered Him to you. For I who 
knew Him and have lived with Him and conversed with Him 
affirm and testify to you that He is a just Man and a holy; 
and if I sold Him, it was my sin and iniquity, which I now 
acknowledge and recognize as such, and in testimony of this 
(and it is the greatest which a covetous man can give), I 
renounce my gains and interest, and I refuse to retain the price 
of it any longer in my power; take back your money !* 

Who would not have imagined that the testimony or con¬ 
fession of Judas would have produced some effect on the minds 
of the priests ? For although he was an evil and perverse man, 
still, after all, he belonged to their own faction, and as he had 
been their guide to take our Lord, so he might likewise have 
been in discharging Him and giving Him freedom. But they 
were so blinded and passionate that, when Judas said to them, 

4 1 have sinned grievously in selling the blood of the just,’ they 
turned away angrily, saying, 8 4 If thou hast sinned it is your 
own affair; what is that to us?’ As if they had said— 4 We 
have got possession of what we were seeking for, we have 
obtained through thy means what we were aiming at. If thou 
hast sinned therein, lay that to thine own account—it is thine 
own affair; as for us, it does not touch us.’ 

O perverse Chief Priests! O ignorant and iniquitous answer! 
You confess that he of whom you bought the blood of the just 
has sinned; and do you say that the sin is his only, and that it 
is nothing to you ? If it were evil to sell Him, it was you who 
bought Him; and if it were treason to deliver Him to you, you 
were a party to it; and if the crime which has driven Judas to 
despair was the having handed Him over to death, you are they 
who put Him to death and execute the evil deed ! And yet, 
8 St. Matt, xxvii. 4. 



yudas might have been pardoned. 159 


with all this, when Judas restores the price of the wicked sale, 
you on your part desire to sustain the contract, and yet you 
hold yourselves free from blame, saying—■* Look you to your 
own sin; for us, we have nothing to do with it.’ 

Judas, seeing that the Chief Priests would not receive his 
money, and that as long as he had it in his possession he felt 
the qualms of death, went to the Temple 9 and cast down the 
money before the priests who were ministering there. Then, 
filled with misery and despair at what he had done, and incited 
by infernal furies, he took and hung himself with a halter, and 
as he hung, swelled until he burst in the midst, 10 as was publicly 
and notoriously known in Jerusalem. 

O miserable man, worthy of the utmost punishment! The 
just payment due to thy wicked deeds was given thee, and 
because it would have been impossible for any one to inflict 
due punishment for such a sin, thou madest thyself judge of 
thine own crime and the executioner of its penalty. Abhorred 
by men and angels, thou wouldst not that the earth should 
receive thy body nor heaven thy soul, but thou didst choose 
the air for thy place, where the demons dwell, who made them¬ 
selves lords over thee, and, as was prophesied, they seated 
themselves at thy right hand. 11 

O Judas! most wretched of men, and for whom it had been 
better that thou hadst never been born, 12 for thou didst add to 
thy great crime another still greater, in despairing of the mercy 
of God, which infinitely exceeds our sins ! Wherefore, when 
in this sore distress, didst thou not recall to mind the time 
when thou wentest about in company with thy Lord, and the 
travail and labour which, like a good shepherd, He took upon 
Himself, seeking His sheep and bearing those who had gone 
astray on His shoulders, and all the love with which He invited 
and received sinners ? And although thy crime was so great in 
every respect, thou oughtest to have remembered that thy Lord, 
albeit knowing thy intentions, yet Himself washed thy feet, and 
gave thee the Communion of the Body and Blood which He 

9 St. Matt, xxvii. 5. 10 Acts i. 18. 11 Psalm cviii. 6. 

12 St. Matt. xx. 24. 



i6o 


The Sacred Passion. 


was about to offer for thee; and that even in thy very act of 
betraying Him, when thou didst deliver Him up by a kiss, He 
invited thee to retain His friendship, and that even whilst thou 
wert performing the office of traitor He called thee friend. 

O thou most unfortunate of all men! Even if thou dost not 
remember the goodness of the Son, at least remember the 
profound humility and gentleness of the Mother. For such was 
the Blessed Virgin that she herself would have gone with thee 
to her Son after His resurrection to bring about thy pardon. 
Even when He was hanging on the Cross, before He died, she 
would have interceded for thee and procured thy forgiveness. 
O man without hope ! why couldst thou not trust that our Lord 
Himself, even as He prayed for others, would pray for thee 
also to the Eternal Father whilst He was suffering the torments 
and the travail of His Cross? But thou, blind man, overmastered 
for thy evil deeds by the devil, didst not remember the words 
and the life of our Lord, so as to hope in His mercy, but, 
accused by thy own conscience, didst permit thyself to sink 
into eternal condemnation under the weight of thy own crimes. 

The Chief Priests were not willing to receive the money 
when Judas offered it to them, because they could not but see 
that he wished to annul the contract which he had made with 
-them, and they knew that if they accepted the pieces they 
would in so doing oblige themselves to put our Lord at liberty, 
and to desist from their accusation of Him. This they in no 
manner of way were willing to do ; on the contrary, they were 
determined to carry out their damnable and perverse intention 
unto they had brought Him to the cross. If it seemed to Judas 
that he had sinned in making such a covenant, they nevertheless 
deemed that they had done very well in the purchase they had 
made, since (according to some authors) they had taken the 
money from the public treasury of the Temple, under pretext of 
putting to death a blasphemer, as for a pious and religious 
purpose, and one that was for the honour and glory of God. 

But when Judas had cast down the money in the Temple, 
the priests who were there took it and kept it, 13 until they 
13 St. Matt. xxvi. 6. 



The Field of Blood ’ 


161 


should see what the princes and magistrates should determine 
respecting it. These being more at leisure after the death of 
our Lord, and knowing what Judas had done, at first accepted 
the money, but they did not think it right to return it to the 
treasury or place where they kept the offerings, seeing that it 
was the price of blood, given and received to procure a man’s 
death. They, therefore, agreed among themselves that they 
would purchase with it a field, which was called the Potter’s 
field, and that it should be used to bury strangers in. In this 
way these wise doctors, that they might not lose the money, 
agreed to receive it as an offering, though they did not think it 
right to keep it in the place set apart for offerings. Although 
they saw no evil in taking it out of the treasury, to purchase 
with it the blood of a just and innocent man, they saw harm in 
putting it back to the same place, after having made their 
purchase with it. And these holy and pious priests, who with 
so much rage and fury put to death the lawful and natural 
heir, entered into dealings for buying a field in which to bury 
strangers, and whilst in truth they were only endeavouring to 
conceal and bury their own iniquity beneath this appearance of 
piety and religion. Nevertheless, God chastized them in their 
own invention, for the field which they bought was called from 
thenceforth 14 the field of blood, because they had bought it 
with the money which was given to Judas for selling to them 
the blood of his Maker. And thus, whenever the field was 
named, so often was renewed the remembrance of their crime. 

14 St. Matt. xxvi. 8. 


L 



CHAPTER XVII. 


Pilate examines our Saviour and sends Hun to Herod. 

The Chief Priests then, and the rest, who had assembled in 
council, took our Saviour to the house and praetorium of the 
Roman Governor, who was called Pontius Pilate. They dragged 
Him thither bound shamefully in chains, that they might 
proclaim Him to the world as a criminal, in the custody of 
the officers and gaolers, low men destitute of all shame. He 
was followed by the priests and scribes, who were to be the 
agents and accusers in the cause, and in such haste were they 
to bring the matter to a conclusion and accomplish it, that after 
they had finished their council and reached the Governor’s 
house, St. John says 1 it was still morning. The case was novel, 
such as has very rarely been seen. A Man Who two days 
before had preached in the Temple with so much majesty, and 
Whom, six days before, they had seen entering into Jerusalem 
with the most solemn triumph and the greatest acclamations 
of holiness that the world had ever witnessed, a Man "Who, 
throughout the whole time of His teaching, had drawn all the 
people towards Him by the power of His miracles, and had 
been reverenced by them as a great prophet—to see Him 
now a prisoner, and ill treated by the public authority of the 
whole council of priests, as being the most atrocious and 
dangerous of criminals—such a spectacle as this, doubtless, 
filled the people with so great astonishment that nothing else 
would be talked of for the time in the city, and they would 
invite and call on one another to come forth and see. It could 
hardly be that tidings of the event had not reached Pontius 
Pilate from the time of our Lord’s apprehension the night before, 
1 xviii. 28. 


Pilate's Prcstorium. 


16 


and he, like a prudent man of the world, would find therein 
much matter for reflection on the sudden change of affairs, and 
knowing well that the cause would be brought before his 
tribunal, he was well prepared to examine into it with leisure 
and full attention. 

The priests having then arrived at the praetorium or house 
of the Governor, and ascended to the portico which was raised 
above the street by a flight of steps, did not, however, enter 
the praetorium, 2 in order not to be rendered unclean or contami¬ 
nated, and so unable to eat the unleavened bread and the other 
sacrifices which were specially offered during the whole week of 
the Pasch. For those holy and religious priests, who were 
endeavouring with so much malice to bring about our Saviour’s 
death, deemed that it would contaminate and make them 
unclean to pass over the threshold of the praetorium, where 
men (although criminals) were condemned to death, and where 
the shedding of human blood was discussed. And so, remaining 
outside the entrance, they delivered up our Lord into the hands 
of the guards and officers of the Governor, excusing themselves 
on religious grounds from passing within the hall, and praying 
him to think it good to conclude the case at once, and execute 
the sentence of death on the Man, seeing that the matter was 
so serious and required so much haste that they had come in 
person to treat of it. 

Jesus autem stetit ante prcesidem. 3 Jesus was presented 
standing and in chains before the Governor, who, seeing the 
gentleness and modesty of our Saviour—and all the more if he 
perhaps conversed a little with Him at His first introduction, as 
to which the Evangelist says nothing—was immediately, as it 
seems, inclined to favour His cause. And he could not but 
perceive that the souls of the priests were filled with envy and 
malice, and that their determination not to enter into his 
house and praetorium was nothing but pure hypocrisy and 
a simulation of holiness. But though he believed it to be 
so, he thought it requisite to comply with their request, 
and do so much honour to their Pasch and its ceremonies. 

2 St. John xviii. 28. 


L 2 


3 St. Matt, xxvii. 11. 



164 


The Sacred Passion. 


Exivit ergo Pilatus ad eos for as 4 — £ Pilate therefore went out 
to them.’ But, having beheld the serenity and dignity of the 
accused, and the tumultuous passion and disturbance of the 
accusers, who, with so much violence and haste required 
sentence of death on Him, he was still more confirmed in his 
opinion, and said to them, perchance, what a successor of his 
said on a similar occasion, 5 ‘ It is not the custom of the Romans 
to condemn any man before he that is accused have his accusers 
present, and have liberty to make his answer, to clear himself of 
the things laid to his charge. You have brought to me a 
Man Who, to all appearance, is free from blame and is innocent/ 
Quam accusationem affertis adversns hominem hunc? 6 —‘ What 
accusation can you then bring against such a Man as this? For 
it seems contrary to reason and justice to deliver up the prisoner 
and not to declare whereof He is accused.’ 

It appears that the priests resented this inquiry of the judge, 
by which he implied either that they must be carried away by 
passion, or that they were ignorant, considering it hard that he 
should take it for granted that they must be either the one or 
the other, therefore they said to him, 7 ‘ If He were not a public 
and notorious malefactor, we, who are priests and learned men, 
would not have delivered Him up to thee that thou mightest 
condemn Him,’ As if to say, ‘ It suffices that we come here 
ourselves, in order that by doing what we ask of thee, thou 
shouldst thereby secure thine own honour and conscience.’ 
Thus spoke the proud and furious priests. How much truth 
there was in their saying that our Saviour was a notorious 
malefactor, might have been known by information from those 
who had been freed from unclean spirits, from the sick who had 
been healed, and from the lepers who had been cleansed; from 
the deaf who had been made to hear, the dumb to speak, the 
blind to see, and the dead who had been restored to life. And 
if proof had been required that He was a great benefactor of the 
commonwealth, testimony might have been given by a man 
blind from his birth, who, by means of a little clay put upon his 
eyes had recovered sight, by a paralytic of thirty and eight years, 
4 St. John xviii. 29. 5 Acts xxv. 16. 6 St. John xviii. 29. 7 Ibid. 28. 



The Priests and Pilate. 


165 


who, at a single word, rose to his feet and took upon his 
shoulders the bed which for so many years had carried him, 
by a daughter of the Ruler of the Synagogue, who had been 
restored to life in the presence of three of His Apostles and of 
her father and mother. Nay, if these witnesses had been too 
few, and were thought prejudiced on account of being His 
disciples, all the city of Nain was witness of the resurrection of 
the Son of the widow; a great part of the city of J erusalem of 
the resurrection of Lazarus. And finally, in order to prove the 
benefits He had bestowed, thousands of witnesses might have 
been called to confirm each other’s testimony, and whom, after 
He had healed in their presence many sick persons, He had fed 
miraculously in the desert. On the other hand, after having 
diligently sought for some evil deed, after having the night 
before canvassed and suborned so many witnesses, they could 
not discover, even by lying, anything against our Saviour. All 
this being so, and the whole people being under so great 
obligation for these benefits, these men, who, for no cause 
whatever, hated our Lord and returned Him evil for good, 
regarded it as an insult that the judge should reflect before 
condemning Him, when they had said that He was worthy of 
•death ! And they relied so much on their own authority as to 
claim that He should be hung upon a cross as a malefactor, for 
no other reason than that they said He was one. 

Pilate could not but clearly see by their answer, how great 
were the pride and arrogance of these persons. He perceived, 
like a prudent and sagacious man, that hatred and passion were 
mixed up in this business, and that there must be some deeper 
cause than was visible to the outward eye, seeing they required 
that such a Man as this, One Who was held to be so holy a 
Prophet, and Whom they had brought before him so suddenly 
and so early in the morning, with so much haste and without 
declaring His crime or the cause of His accusation, should be 
condemned to suffer death upon the cross. Therefore, with much 
sagacity and good management, he answered, 8 1 If, as you say, 
this Man is so great a malefactor, take Him you, and condemn 
8 St. John xviii. 31. 



i66 


The Sacred Passion. 


Him according to your law.’ It is as if he had said to them, ‘It is 
clear that men like you would not require any one to be put to 
death without having satisfied yourselves that he merits it, still 
I cannot pronounce sentence merely on what you may know, 
for, conformably to the laws of the Romans, the judge should 
have the accusation in writing as well as the evidence to support 
it. If your law permits that a man should be condemned to 
death with so much haste and violence, and without hearing 
him or knowing why, take him yourselves and condemn him 
agreeably to your law; as for me and as far as I am concerned, 
I will not hinder you.’ 

To this answer of the Governor, they replied, saying, 9 ‘ It is 
not lawful for us to condemn any one to death.’ Which answer 
they made for one of three reasons, either that the Romans, who 
were their masters, had deprived them of this privilege that they 
might not make a bad use of it, although they allowed them to 
be governed by their own law in some cases; or because, on 
account of its being the season of the Pasch, they could not 
pronounce this sentence, as for this same reason they had 
excused themselves from entering the praetorium; or because 
they could not sentence to the death of the cross, seeing that it 
was not a penalty contained in their law, but introduced by the 
Romans into Judaea. And it was their desire to put our Lord 
to this kind of death, as being the more infamous and shameful. 
Therefore they did not wish to avail themselves of the permission 
given them by the Governor. As if they had said, ‘ The crimes 
of this Man are so atrocious that no other kind of death would 
suffice for His chastisement ; He merits the most terrible, which 
is that of the cross, and if there were any other worse kind of 
torture and outrage it ought to be inflicted on Him, but since 
it is not lawful for us to punish Him by means of this penalty, 
we have come to thee that thou mayest condemn Him to be 
crucified and see that the sentence is executed.’ That they 
were influenced by all these reasons is a supposition favoured 
by what the Evangelist St. John 10 adds, that through this- 
answer given by the Jews was accomplished that which our 
9 St. John xviii. 31. 10 Ibid. 32. 



Charge of Sedition. 


167 


Saviour Himself had said, signifying what death He should die. 
What our Lord had said concerning His death was, as to its 
manner, that it would be that of the cross, as to the time, that 
it would be at the Pasch, and as to the executioners, that it 
would be by the hand of the Gentiles. 

The priests then, seeing what was the disposition of the 
judge, and that he was not minded to proceed in the cause 
without an accusation, spoke, saying, 11 Hunc invenimus snbver- 
tentem gentem nostrain , et prohibentem tributa dare Ccesari, et 
dicentem , etc. In this accusation they laid three things to 
His charge. First that He disturbed and raised tumults among 
the people, affirming that they themselves had found Him out 
in these seditious and traitorous proceedings. Secondly, that 
He had forbidden tribute to be paid to Caesar, as though He 
had taught that the chosen people ought not to pay tribute to 
an idolatrous and Gentile Emperor. Thirdly, that He taught 
and behaved as though He were an anointed King. They 
knew perfectly well what calumny all this was, for how could 
He Who was never to be found in secret assemblies or meetings 
incite to sedition ? His discourses were ordinarily delivered in 
the Temple and in the public synagogues whither all the people 
resorted, and there He exhorted them to be subject to and 
to obey even these self same Scribes and Pharisees themselves, 
because they held the place and sat in the chair of Moses; 
and when they went to seek Him by night in the Garden, they 
found Him with His disciples engaged in prayer. As to the 
tribute, how false their statement was is clearly proved from 
the time when they asked Him deceitfully, and to catch Him 
in His words, 12 if it were lawful to pay tribute to Csesar or not, 
and He answered them, ‘ Render to Caesar the things that are 
Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ The very tax 
farmers and collectors were witnesses, not only of what He 
taught with regard to paying tribute, but that He Himself was 
accustomed to pay it. And then, how far He was from attempt¬ 
ing to incite the people to make Him to be King in this world 
(as they represented) was evident 13 from one occasion when 
11 St. Luke xxiii. 2. 12 St. Mark xii. 17. 13 St. John vi. 15. 



i68 


The Sacred Passion. 


the people desiring to make Him King, He fled and hid 
Himself from their presence. This was so; but those wicked 
priests concealing for the time the reason for which they had 
condemned Him in their Council, and which was because He 
had called Himself the Son of God (for this would have had 
little influence upon a man who was a Gentile), accused Him, 
in defiance of truth and against conscience, of a false crime, 
which would appear more odious to the Governor, because of 
its being against Caesar and against the tribute and custom due 
to him. 

Pilate, having heard the accusation, rejected the other 
articles, and addressed himself solely to the clause concerning 
the kingdom, in which was likewise contained what they had 
said respecting the tribute, because if He were or had called 
Himself King, it was certain that He would hinder tribute 
from being paid to Caesar. And as this was an invidious matter 
and occasion of popular tumult and insurrection, he went back 
again into the prsetorium or audience chamber, to examine our 
Saviour in private, leaving the Jews outside, for they would not 
enter (as has been said above) on account of their Pasch and 
its ceremonies. Then calling our Lord before him, 14 he 
inquired of Him first, ‘Art Thou King of the Jews?’ All the 
four Evangelists 15 agree that he examined and interrogated our 
Lord in the first place on this point, because, though he was a 
Gentile, still, as he lived among the Jews, he had heard speak 
of the King Messias Whom they were expecting, and the fame 
of the works done by our Saviour was very great; and on the 
other hand, they had accused Him of styling Himself the 
anointed King, or the Christ, therefore he asked Him, ‘Art 
Thou the King of the Jews?’ always supposing that the 
Kingdom of which He spoke was temporal and earthly. 

Our Saviour, Who had not been present when Pilate had 
been conferring with His accusers, concealing what He knew, 
answered, 16 ‘ Dost thou ask Me concerning the kingdom, 

14 St. John xviii. 33. 

15 St. Matt, xxvii. n ; St. Mark xv. 2; St. Luke xxiii. 3. 

16 St. John xviii. 34. 



Our Lord a King. 


169 


because thou art in doubt respecting it, or is it a part of the 
accusation which has been brought against Me?’ By this He 
gave him to understand that He knew well by whom that stone 
was hurled, although those who had cast it had concealed their 
hand; as though He had said, ‘ It is clear that thou neither 
thinkest nor believest that I am a King, or that I seek to be 
one : therefore thou hast addressed this question to me because 
information has been given thee on this point against Me, and 
others have suggested that thou shouldst ask Me of it.’ 

Pilate, perceiving, as he thought, that our Saviour by these 
words intended to imply that he had allowed the Jews to 
make an impression on him so as to ask what he had neither 
thought of nor believed, replied with some resentment and 
roughness, 17 ‘Am I perchance a Jew, that I should know aught 
of these things that you Jews speak of concerning the Kingdom 
of the Messias, or still more, that I should care aught about 
them ? If I put this question to Thee, it is not because it is a 
matter which concerns me one way or the other; but I ask 
Thee in the capacity of judge about the charges which have 
been brought against Thee. Thy own countrymen, and of 
them not the lower ranks, but the pontiffs and the priests of 
Thy law, have delivered Thee into my hands. What is it that 
Thou hast done?’ As if to say, ‘Either Thou hast made 
Thyself King without being one, or if Thou art one, what hast 
Thou done that they will not recognize or receive Thee?’ 

In these words of the judge —Quidfecisti 2 what might not 
our Saviour have answered in His defence, seeing what and 
how many were the works which He had done ? But as Pilate 
had addressed to Him two questions, first, respecting His 
Kingdom, whether He were King, and secondly, as to what 
He had done, that is to say, what crimes He had committed 
on account of which the Jews had delivered Him up, He 
replied to them in their order, saying in answer to the first 18 — 

‘ My Kingdom is not of this world;’ and by His Kingdom He 
meant not only the Heavenly Kingdom of the Blessed, but the 
congregation of the faithful people in this world, which is the 
17 St. John xviii. 35. 18 Ibid. 36. 



170 


The Sacred Passion. 


Catholic Church, and therefore He did not say, ‘ My Kingdom 
is not in this world, because it is in this world, it is not earthly 
nor temporal, because it derives its origin from Heaven, whence 
I came down to gather it together through My teaching, and by 
means of faith to redeem it from the power of its enemies by 
My death, to sanctify it with the Sacraments, to bathe it in 
My Blood, to beautify it with My grace, and to give it life by 
My Spirit. My Kingdom is not of this world, because it does 
not consist in the goods of this world, but in contempt of 
them goes on its way to life and eternal salvation.’ 

Our Saviour said this to Pilate to undeceive him, but still 
more the Jews, who had declared that He merited death 
because He had endeavoured to raise Himself in His Kingdom 
against Caesar. Therefore He said—‘ My Kingdom is not of 
this world; I am not seeking to take from you the temporal 
kingdom, but to give you the eternal. This is the matter 
respecting which thou mayest take heed, and which thou art 
bound to investigate for the fidelity which thou owest to 
Caesar; and of this I assure you, that no temporal King has 
any reason to fear or shrink from My Kingdom. Because if 
My Kingdom were of this world I should certainly have 
servants, and ministers, and soldiers, 19 as other Kings have, 
who would fight for Me, and prevent Me from being delivered 
to the Jews. But this is so far from being the case, that when 
one of My disciples who was in the Garden endeavoured to 
defend Me with arms, I forbade him and reproved him, for, in 
truth, My Kingdom is not from hence below, nor of this world.’ 
After this manner our Saviour tempered His answer to the 
Gentile Governor; so that in a few words He repeated three 
times over, that He had a Kingdom, that He might not deny 
nor conceal that Kingdom which His Eternal Father had given 
Him, and as often also He said that His Kingdom was not of 
this world, that He might free Pilate from the vain fear of His 
having desired to rebel against Caesar, and prevent his tribute 
from being paid. ‘Presently as to the manner,’ said Pilate, 
‘whether Your Kingdom be or be not of this world: but after 
19 St. John xviii. 36. 



“ What is Truth f ” 


171 


all, Thou art a King then ? ’ Our Saviour modestly assented, 
saying—‘Thou sayest that I am a King.’ 

Continuing the conversation, He replied to the second 
question which had been put to Him 20 — Quid fecisti? and 
spoke thus—‘ For this was I born, and for this end I came into 
the world, to bear witness to the truth.’ That is, always to 
speak the truth. As though He had said—‘ Do not doubt the 
truth of what I have spoken to you concerning My Kingdom, 
because I cannot speak anything but the truth, and for this I 
was bom and for this I came into the world, and I have done 
nothing else since I was in it. All those who love the tmth and 
those who are on the side of truth, and have pleasure in it, 
gladly hear My words and receive My doctrine.’ By this 
answer He at the same time showed clearly and modestly the 
cause wherefore the Jewish priests abhorred Him, which was 
nothing else than because He had spoken the truth, whilst they 
were so far removed from it. Then Pilate asked Him—‘ What 
is truth ? ’ and without waiting His answer, arose and went out 
to give a reply to the Jews and priests who were expecting 
him outside. 

It appears that this conversation resulted in satisfying 
Pilate, and making him feel persuaded that our Saviour was 
not to blame in the matter of which they accused Him, nor 
was there any cause for condemning Him to death as they 
required; for He Himself confessed that He did not possess a 
kingdom in this world, nor did He pretend to any; and this 
His confession was supported by the scanty pomp and 
surroundings of a King which He possessed. But the Governor 
did not care to continue the discourse respecting what He had 
tacitly brought forward against the priests, that they abhorred 
the truth, and hated Him because He preached it. Therefore, 
our Saviour having said that He was born to speak the truth, 
and that those who loved the truth heard Him gladly, Pilate, 
with the scorn and authority of a superior, asked Him—‘ What 
is truth ? ’ and he arose without giving Him an opportunity of 
answering, thereby making a show of great superiority, and. 

20 St. John xviii. 35. 



T72 


The Sacred Passion. 


proving that he did not put the question in order to listen to 
all He had to say, but to cut Him short, making little account 
of Him. For it is common for those in authority not to desire 
to hear the truth or to know what it is. Or perhaps Pilate, 
remembering that the Priests and Scribes, and the chief among 
the Jews were waiting for him outside, did not think it right to 
detain them, and so, having satisfied himself on the principal 
point, he cut short all further discussion, and went out to give 
them his answer, saying to them 21 —‘ I have examined this 
Man respecting that of which you accuse Him, and after 
having seen Him, I do not find any cause in Him wherefore I 
should condemn Him to death.’ This was the first audience 
which our Saviour had with Pilate, and the first time that he 
gave testimony of His innocence, and of the injustice and fury 
of His accusers. 

The Chief Priests, then, seeing the ill success which had 
attended their petition, and knowing, perchance, or conjec¬ 
turing what our Saviour had answered in regard to His spiritual 
Kingdom, that it was not a Kingdom of this world, they 
imagined, as was natural to them, that by those deceiving words 
and subtle reasons He had perverted the judge, and had 
skilfully perverted the question of the Kingdom to a spiritual 
sense. Then 22 they broke out all the more furiously, crying 
out—Tt is very well to say that He does not desire to be King 
of this world, when He stirreth up all the people, teaching 
and preaching throughout all Judaea. For He began first in 
Galilee (where He called together the Apostles, and began 
to gather a sect together), and the commotion, tumult, and 
excitement of the people have reached as far as this city.’ They 
said this, perhaps, because a few days before, at the procession 
of the palms , 23 the whole city had been moved, saying — 1 Who 
is this?’ 

Pilate, seeing that the business was becoming more per¬ 
plexed, was desirous to free himself as far as possible from it, 
and hearing Galilee mentioned, he inquired if the Man were a 

21 St. John xviii. 38 ; St. Luke xxiii. 4. 22 St. Luke xxiii. 5. 

23 St. Matt. xxi. 10. 24 St. Luke xxiii. 6. 



Herod Antipas. 




Galilean , 24 and finding that He belonged to the jurisdiction of 
Herod, he determined to send Him to him, for, either on 
account of the Pasch, or for some other reason, he was at that 
time staying at Jerusalem. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Herod mocks our Saviour and treats Him as a fool. 

This Herod was called Antipas , 1 Tetrarch of the Province of 
Galilee, and brother of Philip, Tetrarch of Ituraea, and of 
Archelaus, Tetrarch of Judsea. Archelaus, through sinister 
charges brought against him, had been banished by the 
Emperor to Vienne in France, and after this Judaea began 
to be ruled by Governors, of whom Pontius Pilate was the 
sixth. All these three brothers abovenamed were sons of 
Herod, King of Judaea, called the Ascalonite, who had massacred 
the Innocents, hoping among them to put our Saviour to death. 
His son then was Herod the Tetrarch, and at this time was 
staying in Jerusalem. He was so profligate as to have taken 
his brother Philip’s wife, and was now living publicly in adul¬ 
tery with her. And because St. John Baptist had reproved 
him for this scandal, he had commanded him to be beheaded 
at the instigation of this woman. He was, moreover, so am¬ 
bitious that in order to obtain the kingdom of Judsea, of which 
his brother Archelaus had been deprived, he lost no opportunity 
of doing pleasure to and gaining the goodwill of the Jews. 
For this cause he went to Jerusalem to celebrate the Feast of 
the Pasch, and for the self same cause he afterwards commanded 
on the same feast the Apostle St. James to be beheaded , 2 and 
seized St. Peter with the intention of delivering him up after the 
1 St. Luke iii. i. 2 Acts xii. 2. 





174 


The Sacred Passion. 


Pasch to the will of the people . 3 This Herod was at enmity 
with Pilate , 4 either because he wished to revenge the death of 
some Galileans whom Pilate had executed with much cruelty, 
or in order thereby to flatter the Jews, on whom Pilate had 
inflicted many vexations, or finally, because Pilate held the 
government of Judsea which Herod so greatly aimed at and 
coveted, the slightest cause was enough for them to avail them¬ 
selves of as a reason for getting up grievances and enmities. 
Monsters of this sort were the men who then ruled, and to such 
hands was committed the cause of our Saviour. 

Pilate, then, perceiving His innocence and the rage and 
fury of the Jews, forgot his own quarrel with Herod and took 
the opportunity of paying him the compliment of sending him 
so distinguished a prisoner, as a most excellent gift and royal 
present; deeming perchance, that being by profession a Jew, 
Herod would understand better than he the charge made against 
Him, of making Himself the King Messias, and also because he 
w T as His legitimate governor, and so would be better able to 
defend Him from His accusers. Whatever were the motives 
by which He was actuated in exempting himself and getting rid 
of a matter so obscure and perplexed as this, he acted like a 
weak judge. For although he knew the truth, he lacked the 
courage to defend it, and imagined that he did enough in 
sending the case to an impure and ambitious man, who, in 
order to please an adulteress, had put the Baptist to death, and 
who, that he might give pleasure to the Jews, might also put 
our Saviour to death. It is also probable that the Chief Priests 
when they found that they did not gain their end with Pilate 
were not unwilling to go to Herod, because they knew that he 
desired to do what would please them, and that being a vicious 
man and an enemy of the truth, they would easily impress him 
with hatred against its Author and Preacher. They would 

3 [The author has here mistaken the Herod mentioned in the Acts as the 
persecutor of the Church for this Herod Antipas. The Herod who put 
St. James to death, and imprisoned St. Peter, was Herod Agrippa, the son 
of Aristobulus, and grandson of Herod the Great.] 

4 St. Luke xiii. I. 



Our Lord before Herod. 


175 


especially recall to his memory that this Man was He Whom 
His father had sought to kill when he massacred so many 
innocents, regarding Him with suspicion almost as soon as He 
had been born. What, therefore, would he not do now that he 
had Him in his hands, after He had gone about stirring up the 
people, and now that His intentions had been discovered ? In 
this manner God ordained in His secret Providence that all the 
tribunals and judges that were in Jerusalem should take cog¬ 
nizance of the cause, and that before them all should be made 
manifest the innocence of our Lord; and also He should give 
us new examples of His integrity, gentleness, and humility. 
The report went forth, then, from the praetorium of Pilate, 
•that Jesus was being taken to King Herod, and on hearing the 
noise and clamour of the officers and servants who were coming 
forth, the multitude assembled once more to behold our Saviour, 
Who was being hurried along bound in chains, and with the 
same shame and dishonour as before. The messenger of Pilate 
to Herod went first with many compliments. The Chief 
Priests also presented themselves to make their charges and 
give their information, and then came our Saviour Himself in 
the midst of the officers of justice bound and a prisoner. Herod 
was very glad when he saw Him , 5 for he had desired a long 
time past to know Him by sight because of what he had heard 
respecting Him; he also greatly wished to behold some miracle 
performed in his presence. Interrogabat autem eum multis ser- 
mo?iibus; G he therefore began to seek to enter into conversation 
■with Him on many and various subjects. He would, doubtless, 
say what satisfaction it gave him that so distinguished a Man 
should have been born in his country and province of Galilee; 
how much he had desired to know Him, how great had been 
the fame of His doctrine and His miracles; how rejoiced he 
was to behold Him, and on an occasion when he would have it 
in his power to help Him to escape from His present difficulty; 
he would promise Him his favour if He would do his pleasure 
in what he asked; he would ask Him if He were the Man to 
Whom at His birth the Kings of the East had come to worship 
5 St. Luke xxiii. 8. 6 Ibid. 9. 








176 


The Sacred Passion. 


Him, Whose coming had so greatly troubled his father and the 
whole city, or, if as others had said , 7 He were John Baptist, 
whom he himself had beheaded, and if it were true that he had 
been restored to life in order to perform so many miracles. 
Concerning His miracles he inquired of Him whether that 
which had been said of Him were true, because it appeared to 
him that, if it were so, it was something more than human. He 
begged Him to perform some one of these miracles here before 
him, and not to make a great difficulty in doing for him what 
He gave to others for nothing; seeing that he was His judge 
and His king, and that the case of His life was in his hands. 

At ipse nihil illi responded at . 8 Our Saviour was firm in His 
resolve not only not to perform any miracle, but not even to 
reply by a single word. Pilate He had answered, and had 
explained to him at length and in detail what he had asked 
respecting His kingdom, because although he was a Gentile he 
inquired with a desire to know the truth and to defend it, which 
he endeavoured to do although he was afterwards conquered 
through his own weakness. But Herod He would not answer, 
because he was a vicious and impure man, and on that account 
abhorred the truth to such a degree that he had beheaded John 
Baptist (who was the Voice of Jesus Christ) because he told it 
to him. How, therefore, could our Saviour be otherwise than 
dumb in presence of the man who so blindly and passionately 
had deprived His Voice of life? 

Herod was moreover curious and ambitious, and sought 
no other good from beholding the miracles of our Saviour than 
to see some novelty which would surprize him, or some piece 
of jugglery which would entertain him. Moreover, he desired 
that our Lord should perform them solely on his account, before 
him, and in order to give pleasure to some of his courtiers, by 
showing them the most secret and admirable of His works, and 
conversing -with them on the most recondite of the doctrines 
which He taught, just to gratify him and doing him pleasure as 
a vassal to his lord. But the Lord of Majesty would not con¬ 
descend to play the part of King Herod’s juggler, nor would 
7 St. Matt. xiv. 2. 8 St. Luke xxiii. 9. 



Charges before Herod, 


177 


He deign to give to the proud and curious that which He had 
so freely communicated to the humble and simple. As little 
did He desire that it should be imagined He was ready to 
adapt Himself to the tastes of the King, so as thereby to escape 
the death to which He offered Himself of His own free will, or 
that He would bend to prayers or supplications, or have recourse 
to any human means whereby to obtain his liberty. 

After this manner He set us by His silence an example of 
humility, despising the honours and favours of princes, and not 
caring for the jeers and scoffs of their courtiers. Moreover, He 
placed before us a model of constancy and integrity, in not 
allowing that the power of performing miracles should minister 
in any way to the ambition and curiosity of King Herod, 
teaching us thereby to make very little account of the favour of 
rulers, who often speak of the things of God, and wish us to 
speak of them to them, not that they may receive profit, but 
only out of a vain curiosity to know everything for reasons of 
State, or out of vanity to seem to know all, or to make use of 
every one. 

Stabant autem principes sacerdotum et scribes constanter 
accusantes eum . 9 The Chief Priests and the Scribes, who had 
been present during all this, listened with great attention, 
fearing what might be the result. At first, seeing that Herod 
was so desirous for miracles, and believing that our Saviour 
would perform one which would altogether gain his favour, they 
accused Him vehemently and without losing a moment—doubt¬ 
less of matters which would make Him an object of suspicion 
and hatred to the King. For, as they had accused Him before 
the High Priest of having boasted that He would destroy the 
Temple and of having made Himself the Son of God, and then 
had accused Him before Pilate of having made Himself King 
and prevented the payment of tribute to Caesar, so now, in' 
addition to all this, they would accuse Him, before Herod, of 
having concerted with John Baptist to cast infamy upon him 
because of his adultery with Herodias; that whilst he was 
keeping John in prison 10 this man had praised John and had 

9 St. Luke xxiii. io. 10 St. Matt. xi. n. 

M 




178 


The Sacred Passion . 


taken his part in a public discourse, which was the same as to 
condemn Herod as a tyrant, since he had put in prison so great 
a prophet; that besides this He had insulted him in the face 
of the people, by calling him ‘that fox :’ 11 that therefore he 
would not be able to hold his kingdom securely now that his 
enemy had arrived at man’s estate, seeing that his father was 
not secure when He was only a child; and other like things. 
Then, perceiving that because of the great silence of our Lord, 
Herod looked upon Him as a fool and an idiot, and fearing 
that, for that reason, he might set our Lord at liberty, they 
accused Him still more violently and persistently, saying that 
He was a hypocrite and a dissembler Who was now pretending 
to be dumb, though He knew very well how to speak, and had 
spoken when He was before the people, and had made them 
all troubled and unsettled. Stab ant Crgo principes sacerdotum et 
scribcc , constanter accusantes enm. 

Sprevit antem illu?n Herodes cum exercitu suo 12 —‘ Herod with 
his soldiers set Him at nought.’ It seemed to Herod that our 
Lord had made light of him, and that the best way to escape the' 
affront was to treat Him also as of no account. And such is the 
effect of different dispositions in different persons—the silence 
of our Saviour had excited the admiration of Pilate, and the 
same silence gave Herod occasion to despise Him; for the one 
looked at things as a wise and sagacious judge, and the other 
as a vain and ambitious man of the world, who was satisfied 
with compliments and outward show. And as he saw that he 
had not been able to draw a single word from our Saviour, 
either of thanks for the many offers made Him, or of supplica¬ 
tions to be delivered from the danger He was in of death, and 
of a death so infamous and atrocious, or of exculpation or of 
justification of the numerous charges which had been imputed 
to Him, it seemed to him (as was indeed the truth) that such 
philosophy as this could not have its source in any human 
wisdom, and that the Man must be a fool. Therefore, he 
despised Him as a weak, impotent creature, Who could not 
perform any miracle at all, and as a stupid person Who did not 
1 St. Luke xiii. 32. 12 Ibid, xxiii. 11. 



Pilate and Herod. 


179 


know how to plead for Himself, or profit by the good oppor¬ 
tunity offered Him for procuring His own liberty. This is the 
wisdom of the world, which looks upon the wisdom of God as 
foolishness. 

The courtiers and soldiers of the guard then began to scoff at 
and mock our Saviour, with words, with jesting nicknames and 
bursts of laughter, and it may be with blows likewise, as people 
at Court treat stupid and foolish persons. Herod commanded 
Him to be dressed in a white garment, as an innocent and 
idiot, and would not take cognizance of the cause, but sent 
Him back to Pilate with full liberty to do with Him as he 
would. Through these reciprocal compliments and courtesies, 
Herod and Pilate became friends that same day , 13 and after 
having both sought to have nothing to do with the matter, and 
to extricate themselves from it, they concerted together 14 the 
death of our Saviour, each one in his own way putting Him to 
torment and then leaving Him to the will of the other, when by 
reason of their office each of them ought to have set Him free. 

13 St. Luke xxiii. 12. 14 Acts iv. 27. 


M 2 




CHAPTER XIX. 


Pilate examines oily Saviour a second time , and a second 
time testifies to His innocence. 

A second time was our Saviour led through the public streets 
from the palace of Herod to the prsetorium of Pilate, accom¬ 
panied by the same cortege of officials, and amidst the same 
clatter of arms, but now treated with greater rudeness and 
discourtesy than before by those who conducted Him, and 
who cast upon Him the blame of so many comings and goings. 
There was also greater uproar raised by the people who came 
together, and who had now more to talk of in the sport that 
had taken place among the soldiers of Herod, whose curiosity 
to look on Him was more eagerly excited now that He had 
come forth from the palace decorated with a white garment, 
that every one might mock at Him as a fool—an office which 
the world is wont to perform very carefully, clothing everything 
in a robe of its own choosing, that all may judge of it accord¬ 
ingly. Thus it covers vices with a cloak of virtue, calling 
talkativeness discretion, license fine manners, cunning wisdom, 
and revenge fortitude and valour, whilst on the other hand it 
clothes virtues with veiy different garments, calling prudence 
boorishness, looking on modesty as stupidity, devotion as 
hypocrisy, and simplicity and truth as dulness and folly. In 
order to be able to do this it has at hand all kinds of vest¬ 
ments ; that is to say, of reasons and arguments by which it 
can give to everything any colour it pleases, just as Herod 
found ready to his hand the white garment in which he caused 
our Saviour to be mocked. 

The Blessed Virgin knew each moment what was going 
on, and, though at a distance, she always watched all these 


The White Robe. 


181 


processions, and if she then saw her Son on His journey, who 
shall say what were the feelings which were awakened in her 
heart when she beheld the Wisdom of God clothed in that new 
livery and vestment ? 

Thus they arrived at the praetorium, and Pilate was 
informed of the decision of Herod, and that he found no 
cause worthy of death in our Saviour. Then, that he might 
satisfy the Jews, and that they should not think that the first 
time he had examined our Lord he had dealt with too light a 
hand, and not fulfilled his office with all requisite integrity and 
severity, and in order also to free himself from all suspicion, 
he called into his presence 1 the Chief Priests and the magis¬ 
trates and the rest of the people, and began a second time to 
examine our Saviour before them respecting the matters of 
which He had been accused. But nothing of any importance 
resulting from this, he said to them all 2 —‘ You have brought 
before me this Man as being a blasphemer and seditious, and 
one Who has stirred up and disquieted the people; Who, more¬ 
over, has drawn them away from the worship of God and the 
observance of the law, as well as from obedience and the 
service of Caesar. Behold, I have examined Him, not secretly, 
as on the first occasion, but before you all in public, lest 
you should suspect some deceit, but I do not find in Him 
any cause of death, or any crime in those things whereof 
you accuse Him. No, nor Herod either, to whom, as you have 
seen, I remitted Him; and Herod having heard all you had 
to say to your full content, you could not prove against Him 
anything that was worthy of death, so he contented himself 
with clothing Him in a white raiment, thereby making a jest of 
Him and of you, who with so much violence have accused a 
simple and innocent Man. It is certain that if this Man had 
broken your law, Herod, who understands and professes it, 
would have convicted Him. But He has neither committed 
any crime against your law, since Herod has not discovered it, 
nor against the Roman law, since neither have I. But as it 
may chance that He has roused your hostility by some excess or 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 13. 2 Ibid. 14. 




182 


The Sacred Passion. 


other, by some imprudence or neglect of duty , 3 I will chastize 
Him with some slight chastisement, and then release Him.” 

Et accusabant eum summi sacerdotes in multis . Then the 
Chief Priests, perceiving that the judge was inclined to permit 
our Saviour to escape with His life, were enraged beyond 
measure, because of the hatred they bore Him, as well as the 
fear they had conceived of finding Him again against them. 
For as they had already experienced the force of His words 
in teaching and in reproving, and the power of His miracles, 
with which He gained over the people to Himself, what could 
they expect to result now but the loss of their honour and their 
interest? Therefore, they laboured with all their might to 
undermine, or rather to deceive, the Governor, accusing Him 
of many things in order to prove His hypocrisy and dis¬ 
sembling, and to show that He was a stirrer up of the people 
in very truth, and was a blasphemer against God and a traitor 
to Caesar. 

Et cum accusaretur 4 a principibus sacerdotum et senioribus 
nihil respondit. Our Saviour, with great modesty and dignity, 
kept silence under these accusations. He had on the first 
occasion answered Pilate himself what was enough, and only 
what was of importance to His cause, that is, what regarded 
the question relative to His Kingdom ; and this He had done 
because Pilate inquired with a desire to know the truth. But to 
the accusations of the Chief Priests He did not choose to 
answer; for all was mere loud talk and confusion, calumnies as 
to His going about the country, as to His having preached, as to 
the miracles which He had performed, the disciples whom He 
had gathered together, and other similar things, all of which 
had been, and were, public and notorious; and respecting 
which He had said the night before to Caiaphas , 5 that He was 
not the person to be asked about them. He had only to ask in 
order to be informed of them. Besides, they did not inquire of 
Him from a desire to know the truth, and they would not have 
believed, even if our Lord had told them . 6 

3 St. Luke xxiii. 16. 4 St. Matt, xxvii. 12. 

5 St. John xviii. 21. 6 St. Luke xxiii. 67. 



Our Lord's Silence. 


183 

Nor did it appear to Him that His cause required defence; 
therefore He did not attempt to repulse these accusations in 
words, but to despise them by silence. On which account 
St. Ambrose says 7 — Accusatur Dominos , et tcicct; et bene tacet 
quis defensione non indiget; ambiunt defendi qui timent vinci: 
non ergo accusationem tacendo confirmed ,, sed despicit non repellendo 
—‘ The Lord is accused,’ says the Saint, ‘ and He is silent, and 
with good reason He is silent, because He has no need of 
defence. Those who fear to be conquered desire to be 
defended, but our Lord does not confirm the charge brought 
against Him by silence, but rather despises it by not refuting it.’ 

Pilate, astonished at such profound silence and serenity, 
said to Him , 8 ‘ Dost Thou not hear how great testimonies they 
allege against Thee?’ For in truth, our Lord stood their before 
him as entirely without perturbation, or any sign or mark 
thereof, as if He had heard nothing of what had been said, as 
it had been written of Him , 9 Ego autem tanquam surdus non 
audiebam —‘I was as though deaf and heard not;’ and He 
remained silent as though He had been dumb. Et sicut mutus 
no?i aperiens os suum —‘And as a dumb man,’ He says, ‘who does 
not open his mouth.’ Therefore, the judge having said to Him 
‘ Hearest Thou not?’ he said also to Him, ‘Answerest Thou 
nothing ? 10 Behold of how many things they accuse Thee.’ 
But our Saviour answered never a word, so that the Gentile 
Governor wondered 11 at such sublime philosophy, and was like 
a man frightened and astonished, without knowing the cause 
whence proceeded this new and unusual silence. And the Chief 
Priests ought also to have revered and wondered at it the more, 
since they had read that which is written in Isaias , 12 Quasi 
agnus coram tondente se obmutescet , et non ciperiet os suum —‘ As 
a lamb before her shearers He shall be dumb, and shall not 
open His mouth.’ 

7 Lib. x. in Luke xv. 8 St. Matt, xxvii. 13. 9 Psalm xxxvii. 14. 

10 St. Mark xv. 4. 11 St. Matt, xxvii. 14. 12 liii. 7. 




CHAPTER XX. 


Barctbbas is preferred to our Saviour. 

From all these things Pilate was persuaded, and considered it 
as certain, that the Chief Priests 1 had delivered up our Saviour 
through envy and malice alone; and so he took more pains 
and diligence to find some means whereby to release Him, and 
now, since he had not been able to liberate Him as an innocent 
man, he determined to try and free Him as a criminal. And his 
way was this. The Jews had a custom that every year, during 
the Pasch, in memory of the liberation from Egypt, and to add 
greater rejoicing and solemnity to the festival, the Governor 
should release unto them a criminal from the prison , 2 at their 
will, whomsoever they themselves chose and asked for. As this 
boon was granted in favour of the people, the multitude had at 
this time come to the house of Pilate 3 to beg of him to grant 
the favour he had been always wont to grant in preceding 
years. Pilate therefore thought that this occasion gave him an 
opportunity of setting free our Saviour, because at that time he 
had in prison a notable criminal, famous for his wicked and 
evil deeds, who was moreover a robber , 4 and likewise a turbu¬ 
lent man, a stirrer up of the people , 5 and seditious, who, in a 
certain tumult which had taken place in the city, had committed 
murder. Although in past years the people had chosen freely 6 
whomsoever they would, it was not so this time, for the 
Governor obliged them to ask for one of two persons, either 
Barabbas or Christ our Lord. And so he spoke to them, 
saying 7 —‘Whom will ye that I shall release unto you, 

1 St. Matt xxvii. 18. 2 St. Mark xv. 6. 3 Ibid. 8. 

4 St. John xviii. 40. 5 St. Mark xv. 7. 6 Ibid. 6. 

7 St. Matt, xxvii. 17. 


Barabbas . 


185 


Barabbas, or Jesus that is called Christ?’ He placed them 
one against the other because he felt certain that all their 
prosecution of our Lord was nothing but envy, and he believed 
that it was not possible they could be so led away by passion, 
or so blind, as not to see plainly the punishment which 
Barabbas merited, and therefore they would not dare to set 
him at liberty rather than our Lord, if only that the people 
might not discover by so evident a sign the passion by which 
they were actuated. 

The malice, however, of the Chief Priests was greater than 
it seemed to this layman and Gentile. For hearing what the 
judge proposed, and knowing that the multitude had always 
listened with admiration to the doctrine of our Lord, and had 
reverenced His miracles, they feared that He would be released 
by their votes. They therefore mingled among them, and some 
in one group, some in another, began to canvass and solicit 
them, persuading them by apparent reasons to beg liberty for 
Barabbas and death for our Saviour . 8 For though it be 
true, they would say, that Barabbas is a robber and a 
murderer, still it is one thing to be a robber, and a much 
worse to be a blasphemer. And if it is an evil thing to 
kill a man in a quarrel, what is that in comparison to 
having offered to destroy this holy Temple of God, which 
is reverenced by all the world ? Moreover, it is a much 
less thing to stir up some dispute or question in the city 
than to excite the whole country to sedition and disturbance, 
and if Barabbas should not amend in return for the benefits 
which he will have received at your hands, you will always be 
able to chastise him at your pleasure ; besides, he will always 
bear so vividly in remembrance the strait in which he has 
found himself, and will be under such an obiigation for the 
boon you will have conferred, that you will find in him a slave 
who will never offer you any further resistance or contradiction. 
But this Man is so self satisfied, and so free in saying what He 
thinks, that He will not show the least gratitude to you for 
liberating Him, nor will He be in the least point different from 
8 St. Matt, xxvii. 20. 



i86 


The Sacred Passion. 


what He has been hitherto, going about from place to place, 
fostering the evil humours of the people, with great danger that 
if we show mercy now that we are able to remedy the mischief, 
we shall never be able to remedy it when we wish. Besides, 
who can tell what is the meaning of the judge? For may be, 
as this Man has been accused of desiring to make Himself 
King, and to excite the people to rebel against Caesar, Pilate, 
cunningly and craftily, puts the question whether you demand 
His release in order to draw from your answer an argument 
that you looked upon and desired to have Him as King, and 
to bring down upon us all the power of the Romans! With 
these and similar reasons the Chief Priests 9 moved and stirred 
up the people against our Saviour. 

Then, seeing that they delayed to make answer, Pilate said 
to them a second time—‘What decision do you make, and 
which of the two do you desire should be set at liberty ? ’ The 
intention of Pilate was very clearly to show favour to our 
Saviour; nor in this did he act with cunning and duplicity, but 
because in truth he so judged 10 that, according to what had been 
alleged and proved, our Lord deserved to be released , 11 and 
that was the object he endeavoured to accomplish and desired. 
Nevertheless, to set Him at liberty, by putting Him in compe¬ 
tition with Barabbas, was a very poor favour, since, even were 
He released and His life granted, it was not as an innocent man, 
but as a criminal and malefactor, and solely by reason of the 
privilege of the Pasch, and by the vote of the common people,, 
in opposition to the opinions of the Chief Priests and Scribes, 
and by comparison with a man of crime and sedition like 
Barabbas. So that it was a great insult merely to set Him up 
against such a man, whichever of the two were chosen. Yet 
even this small favour the people were not willing to do Him, 
for having been well influenced and persuaded by the priests , 12 
they all cried out with one voice 13 —‘Away with this Man, and 
release unto us Barabbas.’ So great was the hatred they had 
conceived against Him that, in their rage and spite, they would 

9 St. Mark xv. II. 10 Acts iii. 13. 

11 St. Luke xxiii. 20. 12 Ibid. 18. 13 Ibid. 



Barabbas chosen. 


187 


not even call Him by His name, saying 14 — 4 Not this Man, but 
Barabbas.’ 

This outrage our Saviour received from His own people, 
and it was perchance the greatest which He received during 
the whole course of His Passion. For a generous man does 
not feel pain so much as dishonour, and of all outrages what 
could be greater than to compare Him with such a man, and 
then to esteem Him as even less than he ? But our Saviour 
underwent this for our example and consolation when we are 
wronged, and to teach us to despise the judgments of men 
when, with a good conscience and pure intention, we desire 
and endeavour to please God only. For here w r e see the Saint 
of Saints not only looked upon as a malefactor amongst male¬ 
factors, as says Isaias 15 — Et cum sceleratis reputatus est —but 
regarded more vile and more unworthy of life than them all 1(1 
—Despectum et novissimum virorum. This was the great crime 
laid to their charge by St. Peter, when he said to them 17 — 4 You 
are they who disowned and denied the Holy One and the Just, 
and required from the judge to give you as a favour a traitorous 
man and a murderer, and to condemn to death the Author of 
life.’ It is certain that this petition of the Jews turned out to 
their own hurt, because, having preferred a robber to our 
Saviour, and a homicide to the Author of life, most justly they 
were punished by the loss of the life and peace and prosperity 
of their commonwealth, and were subjected to robberies and 
seditions to such a degree that at last their kingdom and city 
perished miserably. 

Pilate, then, seeing the obstinacy and hardness of the people 
and having heard the answer which they had given at the insti¬ 
gation of the Chief Priests, which was so contrary to his 
expectation , 18 spoke to them again in favour of our Saviour,, 
wishing, if it were possible, to set Him at liberty, with the good 
pleasure and satisfaction of them all, and said to them 19 — 

4 What shall I do, then, with Jesus, Who is called Christ and 
King of the Jews ?’ 20 He put this question to them in order 

14 St. John xviii. 40. 15 liii. 12 16 Ibid. 3. 17 Acts iii. 14. 

18 St. Luke xxiii. 20. 19 St. Matt, xxvii. 22. 20 St. Mark xv. 12. 



188 


The Sacred Passion. 


to fill them with shame and confusion at the answer they had 
given, by showing them that if they had had to choose as they 
liked in other years, it would not have been so bad to have 
chosen and begged for a seditious man, but when the com¬ 
parison lay between two, to free the one was the same- thing as 
to condemn the other. As though he had said—‘ If you ask 
for Barabbas, then what do you desire should be done with 
Jesus Christ, Who calls Himself King of the Jews? for merely 
on account of His title you ought to claim that He should have 
some honourable dismissal’ 

But they, who had taken up this business so heartily, and 
thought very little of the inconvenience thus suggested, desiring 
nothing but our Lord’s condemnation, did not answer as they 
might have answered, asking for Barabbas, and leaving the 
cause of Jesus Christ to the will and right of the judge, but 
with great recklessness and shamelessness, when Pilate asked, 
‘What shall be done with Jesus?’ they all cried out with one 
voice , 21 ‘Crucify Him, let Him be placed on a cross; crucify 
Him, crucify Him! ’ Then Pilate, seeing that they had cast 
aside all concealment, and lost all regard for good, said to 
them the third time, with great earnestness , 22 ‘ Why, what evil 
hath this innocent Man done that I should crucify Him? I find 
no cause of death in Him. What I shall do, therefore, will be 
to give Him some easier and lighter punishment, and to let 
Him go.’ 

In proportion as the judge spoke with greater energy in 
favour of our Saviour, so much the more they became enraged, 
and shouted out like men in a fury, and begged most urgently, 
and violently insisted that He should be crucified . 23 And their 
voices prevailed and overcame the good intentions and the 
authority of the Governor. 

21 St. Mark xv. 13. 22 St. Luke xxiii. 22. 23 Ibid. 23. 



CHAPTER XXL 


Pilate commands our Saviour to be scourged. 

The offer made by Pilate to the Jewish people was of no 
insignificant kind, because in addition to the blows, the spitting 
and buffeting, which our Lord had received in the house of 
Caiaphas, and the mockery and scorn with which He had been 
treated by Herod and his court , 1 he had now promised to 
chastise and punish Him by scourging. This penalty was not 
only painful but infamous, and it properly belonged to slaves , 2 
so that it could not be given to a Roman citizen. For the 
purpose intended by the Jews, and the hatred which they had 
conceived against our Lord because of His having aimed at 
dominion and wished to make Himself their King, it seemed 
to the Governor a very sufficient chastisement, and that He 
would be so humiliated and disgraced by it, as not only never 
again to think of a kingdom, but to be for ever ashamed and 
dishonoured among men. But as he saw that neither the 
people, nor the Chief Priests who were instigating them, were 
willing to agree to his proposal when he made it to them in 
words, he determined to carry it out in deed, supposing and 
considering it certain that when they had seen Him scourged 
they would change their mind. 

With this intention, and shrinking back from the cries 
uttered by the people, he retired with our Saviour into the 
praetorium, complaining perchance of the obstinacy and nature 
of the people in forcing him to what he did not wish to do. 

‘ Thou hast seen,’ he would say to our Saviour, 1 the fury and 
contempt of the people, and the means I have used to release 
Thee. I see clearly that the whole tempest which has been 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 22. 2 Acts xxii. 25. 


190 


The Sacred Passion. 


raised against Thee is owing to nothing but malice and hatred; 
but who can restrain a furious people and make them listen to 
reason? It is time that Thou shouldst suffer some evil in 
order to escape greater. If I were at all risks to defend Thee, 
I should ruin myself and perhaps the whole province; and if 
Thou wert to seek to escape outrage altogether, Thou mightest 
then lose even Thy life. There is only one means whereby 
all may be assured: it is that in a case so urgent Thou shouldst 
bear in patience some chastisement by which Thy enemies 
may be appeased, and I be set free from their pressure, and 
Thou have Thy life preserved. So it is necessary Thou shouldst 
prepare Thyself for being scourged.’ What answer did our 
Saviour make to this, except by silence and humility, by His 
deportment and whole bearing, to say what had been written of 
Him , 3 Quoniam ego in flagella paratus sum —‘For I am ready 
for the scourge ’ ? 

This passage of the scourging at the pillar is one of the 
most remarkable and most fruitful in devotion in the Passion of 
our Lord, since there was united in it the greatest measure of 
dishonour with so much of suffering and such great outpouring 
of blood, not from one wound or two, but from many distributed 
over the -whole of His body, for so our Saviour chose to be 
wounded, from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, to 
heal the wounds of His mystical Body. As Isaias says 4 — 
‘ There was no soundness in Him from the sole of the feet unto 
the highest part of the head.’ Our Saviour, moreover, desired 
to correct and chastise in His flesh the evil inclinations and 
excesses of ours, and to condemn the exaggerated daintiness 
with which we treat it, and to do penance for the sensual and 
impure pleasures of men. These being so many and so evil as 
they are, it is easy to see how cruel and rigorous must have 
been the scourging which was to vent itself on our Saviour’s 
shoulders as their penalty. This perhaps was the cause why, 
whenever our Saviour spoke of the Passion to His disciples, 
He always made 5 particular mention of the scourging, and 

3 Psalm xxxvii. 18. 4 i. 6. 

5 St. Matt. xx. 19; St. Mark x. 34; St. Luke xviii. 32. 



Cher Lord stripped. 


191 


dwelt especially upon it, as if He wished continually to place 
before His eyes this outrage and this suffering. 

Our Saviour, then, being delivered by the Governor into the 
power of the lictors and executioners, who were to scourge 
Him, they led Him from the presence of the judge, and there, 
in the praetorium itself, which was a public and open place set 
apart for the chastisement and torture of malefactors, they com¬ 
manded Him to take off His clothes, addressing Him with 
many rude speeches, and threatening Him with the scourges 
with which they would shortly scourge Him. Our Lord was so 
meek and humble that, as St. Peter says , 6 in order to set before 
us an example for our' emulation, when He was reviled He did 
not revile again, and when He suffered He threatened not 
vengeance, but obeyed and was subject to him who judged 
Him and condemned Him unjustly. Therefore, at the com¬ 
mand of these executioners He began to divest Himself of His 
raiment and to prepare Himself to receive so great an outrage, 
and to suffer such exquisite torment. Or, perchance, He per¬ 
mitted Himself to be unclothed by them, in order that the 
thing itself and the manner of it might be more extremely bitter 
and rude, and the insult greater; or, perhaps, He began with 
humility to unclothe Himself, and they rudely finished the work 
until they left Him entirely naked. 

That virginal body then remained disclosed to view, and 
the Ark of the Testament was unveiled to the eyes of profane 
men, and that modest and most bashful Youth put to shame, 
and He, Who was beautiful above all the sons of men, suffered 
the confusion of that nakedness which our fault had merited, 
that He might merit for us the garments of grace, and the robe 
of immortality which He will give to us in glory. That pure 
flesh was uncovered which was conceived without sin by the 
operation of the Holy Spirit, and which the Son of God had 
united to Himself in order through it to do honour to the whole 
nature of man, and to teach us by its means how to honour 
God, and to offer in it £1 sacrifice acceptable and without stain 
to His Eternal Father. Finally, there stood exposed to sight 
6 1 Epist. ii. 21. 



192 


The Sacred Passion . 


that beloved and desired Spouse of chaste and pure souls, 
Whose beauty renders men chaste, and Whose majesty moves 
the Angels of heaven to reverence, of Whom the whole Church 
can with truth say that which Michol, the spouse of David, said 
scoffingly to her husband 7 —‘ How glorious was the King of 
Israel today, uncovering Himself before the handmaids of His 
servants, and was naked as mean and wretched men are made 
naked! ’ 

But those ministers of Satan, to whom in that hour had been 
given power over our Lord, naked and bare themselves of all 
humanity and sense of shame, bound our Saviour, naked as He 
was, to a pillar of stone. And doubtless the bonds with which 
He was bound were very strong and secure on account of the 
false notions and imaginations of the Jews, who, because they 
had seen Him perform so many miracles, were afraid of His 
power now unless the bonds were so strong, and also because 
of the cruelty with which the executioners intended to scourge 
Him, and which would be so great that they feared He might 
move from the place. O blind men ! wherefore do you bind 
the Omnipotent, since He will remain quiet? Wherefore do 
you bind the hands in Whose power are your own, since He will 
not move them, seeing that He desires and is content to suffer? 
O charity, how powerful are thy bonds, seeing’ that God Him¬ 
self could be bound with them ; and if the bonds and chains of 
love failed, what others would have been sufficient to bind the 
Son of God to a pillar ? Oh, if the night before St. Peter 
shivered with cold, with all his clothes on, what must our 
Saviour have felt standing naked and bound to a marble pillar, 
having had no sleep and having all His strength worn out by 
the treatment He had received during that past night ? 

Our Saviour, then, being thus bound, the executioners 
began to scourge that most delicate body, either with rods, 
according to the custom of the Romans, or with thongs and 
scourges of leather, according to that of the Jews, or with both 
one and the other. And the scourgers (who according to some 
writers were six) succeeded one another, and let loose their 
7 2 Kings vi. 20. 



Our Lady at the Scourging. 


193 


frenzy and accursed fury on the most sacred flesh and ineffable 
patience of the Son of God: a spectacle the most horrid the 
world has ever seen. For men were scourging the Son of God 
in the sight of the Eternal Father and of all the Angels of 
heaven, and yet there was no one to hinder them. Draw near, 
all mankind, and enter the prsetorium of Pilate and behold 
God Himself scourged for your sins! Learn, O man, what 
thou art worth, since thou wert bought at such a price, and 
how much thou owest to Him Who so liberally paid it for thee, 
and, if thou understandest how to estimate the value and 
dignity of thy redemption, be ashamed to make thyself again 
the slave of sin ! 

As to the number of lashes which our Lord received, who 
shall count them, for some say that they were more than five 
thousand ? It was, however, impossible that the strokes 
could be few, seeing that they were inflicted for the chastise¬ 
ment of so many and such great sins as men commit. Thus 
Isaias says , 8 that God laid on Him the iniquity of us all, that 
He was wounded for our iniquities and bruised for our sins, 
and that the chastisement which our sins merit was laid upon 
His shoulders. Moreover, the Law commanded , 9 that according 
to the measure of the crime the measure of the stripes should 
be. But what measure could there be to His scourging, since 
our sins were altogether without measure ? Therefore, the holy 
prophets so long before had said that He remained without 
form or comeliness, and that His Body was as that of a leper, 
and that from the sole of His foot to the highest part of His 
head there was no soundness in Him. 

If the feelings of the prophets were so deep who beheld 
Him afar off, what must His most holy Mother have felt, who 
stood so near Him? For very shortly the tidings must have 
reached her of the resolution taken by Pilate, and how he had 
condemned her Son to be scourged, at which most afflicting 
tidings were renewed her own tears and the tears of those holy 
women who bore her company. For if mothers are very deeply 
wounded when their sons and husbands are subjected to 

8 liii. 5, 6. 9 Deut. xxv. 2. 

N 



194 


The Sacred Passion. 


outrage, what must the heart of the Virgin have felt when she- 
knew that her Son was about to be subjected to this outrage 
and suffering ? It may be that in such a strait she could not 
restrain herself from approaching nearer to the praetorium, 
whence she saw, or at least heard, the strokes of the scourges,, 
which would sound loudly in her ears, and would deeply pierce 
her heart, and draw as many tears from her eyes as drops of 
blood from the body of her Son. 

In the Revelations of St. Bridget 10 it is written that the 
most Blessed Virgin spoke to the Saint in this manner—‘At 
the time of the Passion of my Son, His enemies seized Him, 
striking Him on the neck and the cheeks, and when they had 
led Him to the pillar, He Himself took off His garments, and 
placed His hands on the column, and His enemies bound 
Him to it. At the first stroke, I, who was present there, fell 
down as dead, and coming once more to myself, I beheld His 
Body scourged to the bones, so that the very ribs were dis¬ 
covered, and what was sadder and more heartbreaking than 
all, as the scourges were withdrawn, they dragged the flesh 
off with them. And as my Son stood there all bleeding and 
lacerated, so that on Him there was no sound place, nor any 
part whjch they could scourge, then one of those who stood 
by angrily asked—“ Do you wish to kill this Man before He 
be sentenced?” And saying this he immediately cut His 
bonds asunder.’ 

This is what is written in that book, and it cannot be 
doubted that the Blessed Virgin alone, through her sublime 
gift of contemplation, knew how to acknowledge and estimate 
the love which the Eternal Father felt for the world—since He 
would not pardon His own Son, but delivered Him to be 
scourged for its redemption and salvation—and the obedience 
and charity with which Her Son offered Himself up; and that 
she likewise offered Him, as a thing so entirely her own, with 
profound reverence and burning charity, for her salvation and 
that of all men, desiring greatly that all should know, value, 
and esteem this ineffable benefit. 


10 Lib. i. io. 



Confidence of Forgiveness. 


195 


But what man is so blind as not to know this, or what heart 
so hard as not to be penetrated by it, and to surrender itself up 
at the feet of our Lord? For, if a thief had been taken and 
put into prison and condemned for his theft to be scourged, 
and if an honoured and innocent man were to come forth to be 
his surety, and, in order that the thief might be set free, should 
enter the prison in his place, what compassion would he not 
excite in every one, if all his property were sold to pay for 
the thefts which he had not committed ? and much more if his 
person were outraged and scourged publicly for a crime which 
he had not done ? If the thief really had the feelings of a man, 
the outrage inflicted on him who was his surety would make his 
face glow, and the scourge which was laid on the shoulders of 
the other he would feel in his own heart, and with tears and 
cries he would go and declare that he was the delinquent and 
merited the chastisement, and that he who suffered it was 
without blame and innocent. Well then, hard and ungrateful 
heart, thou knowest the crimes thou hast committed against 
God, and thou seest the Holy of Holies and fountain of all 
sanctity cruelly scourged, only because He made Himself thy 
surety—what must thou not feel ? What must be thy shame and 
confusion ? What thy songs of praise and thanksgiving ? How 
canst thou do otherwise than give up thyself as His slave, and 
bind thyself to obey Him for ever, when, bound to a column 
and covered with wounds, thou hearest Him saying , 11 Qua non 
rapui tunc exsolvebam. Et fui Jiagellatis tota die, et casligatio 
mea in matutinis 12 —‘ Then did I pay that which I took not 
away,’ and * I have been scourged all the day, and My chastise¬ 
ment has been in the morning .’ 13 

And if it be true that no penalty is inflicted on the debtor 
when his surety has paid the debt, what great confidence ought 
we to have that the Divine justice has nothing to demand at 
our hands, since it is satisfied with the payment made by 
Jesus Christ, if we are willing to avail ourselves of it and profit 
by it! The redemption has been made so copious that, even 

11 Psalm lxviii. 5. 12 Ibid, lxxii. 14. 

13 M. Avila, Audifilia , c. 19. 


N 2 



196 


The Sacred Passion. 


though God should pardon all the offences committed against 
Him by man, it would be indeed a benefit above all human 
understanding; yet the payment made by Jesus Christ our Lord 
exceeds in value the debt incurred by man, by much more than 
the highest heaven is above the deepest abyss. Sinful man 
merits to be scourged, to be made prisoner, and reviled and 
put to death, but is not his debt well paid by the scourgings 
and scoffings, by the torments and death, not only of a Man 
Who is just, but Who is both Man and God? He chose to 
receive in His holy and innocent Body the penances due to the 
disorders of ours, and to correct in His flesh the rebellion of 
our flesh, and at the cost of His sufferings to make it subject 
and obedient, and to set us an example how we are to chastize 
it, that it may serve the spirit, and not be subject unto sin in 
its works. And He, Who was beautiful above the sons of men, 
desired to be without grace or beauty, and to be made one 
immense wound, as a leper, in order to make our souls beautiful 
and acceptable in His eyes , 14 Et ut exhiberet ipse sibi glorioscim 
ecclesiam , non habentem maculam ant rugam aut aliquid hujus- 
modi , sed ut sit sancta et immaculata —‘ that He might present 
to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot or wrinkle or any 
such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish.’ 

14 Eph. v. 27. 



CHAPTER XXII. 


Our Saviour is mocked by the Gentile soldiers. 

The soldiers then scourged our Saviour, and Pilate dissembled 
as though he had neither seen nor heard what was taking place. 
And perhaps he went meanwhile out of the praetorium, because 
the iniquitous judge did not intend so much to chastize the 
crimes of the accused, as to satisfy the passions of the accusers 
by this punishment. So great, however, was their malice, that we 
may well suppose that they paid and bribed the executioners to 
scourge our Lord in such a manner, that if Pilate (as he had 
told them) would not crucify Him, He should at any rate be 
reduced to such a state by the scourging as not to be able to 
live. So on account of the dissimulation of the judge and the 
fury of the accusers, the executioners passed all limits of justice 
and humanity, and hardly had they unbound Him from the 
pillar, and scarcely had' our Saviour covered His wounds and 
nakedness with His garments, than they inflicted upon Him 
fresh kinds of mockery and scorn. We cannot be certain, from 
what the Evangelist says, whether these inventions proceeded 
from their own heads—the soldiers, through vanity, being inclined 
to such like jests—or whether they were instigated by the Jews, 
who availed themselves of every opportunity of executing their 
damnable purpose, or whether they so behaved by license and 
permission of the Governor, or were perhaps commanded by 
him, in his desire to find ways of punishing our Saviour, so as to 
satisfy the Jews, so that they might desist from requiring that 
He should die the death of the cross. 

Pilate had formed it is impossible to say what idea of the 
Kingdom of Christ, partly from the accusation of the priests, 


The Sacred Passion. 


198 


partly from the answers given him by our Saviour Himself, and 
partly also from the solemnity with which, a few days before, 
our Saviour had entered into Jerusalem, amidst the acclama¬ 
tions of all the people who proclaimed Him to be King. From 
this he gathered that the Kingdom of the Messias was not 
of this world, but a mysterious thing, which he neither under¬ 
stood nor believed, and that the Man before him had claimed 
to seize that dignity for Himself, and that the Jews did not 
wish to admit His claim. Although he found no cause of 
death in Him, yet he might well persuade himself that it was 
possible that our Saviour had committed some excesses in the 
commotion and tumult which He had occasioned among the 
people ; at least, it seems that he agreed with Herod in regard¬ 
ing Him as a fool, for having attempted by such means to raise 
Himself to the throne. For these reasons it is probable that 
Pilate deemed it well to chastize Him for His transgression, and 
to cause the soldiers to mock Him as a fool in this same matter 
of the Kingdom in which He had been foolish, and that he 
thought the Jews would then be satisfied without endeavouring 
to put Him to death, being secure that after such a scourging 
there would be nothing of the King left in Him, nor even of 
any attempt to become a King. Upon this the soldiers were 
encouraged to look upon this amusement of theirs as very 
appropriate, and to add new insults and inflict new sufferings 
on His wounds which were still fresh after the scourging, so 
that there should be accomplished what had been written of 
Him, 1 Et super dolorei7i vulnerum meorum addiderunt —‘And 
they added to the pain of My wounds.’ These inventions were 
so new, so cruel, and so ignominious, that they could have 
been invented by no one except the devil himself, who had 
taken possession of these ministers, in order by their means 
to irritate, if he could, the patience of our Lord. And no 
one would have been able to imagine or believe them, if the 
Evangelists had not described them so particularly. 

For first, they were not content that ten or twelve Gentile 
soldiers should be present at the spectacle, but, passing the 
1 Psalm lxviii. 27. 



The Crown of Thorns . 


199 


word one to another, they assembled the whole cohort, as 
St. Mark and St. Matthew write (which must have amounted 
to at least a hundred and twenty five soldiers). Et convocant 
iotam cohortem , says St. Mark 2 and St. Matthew , 3 Congregaverunt 
ad eum universam cohortem. It is certain that they were col¬ 
lected together for no other purpose than for their amusement, 
and to see a sort of play about a burlesque and pretended 
King, or like men who are going to entertain themselves, as a 
pastime, with a fool, or something else ridiculous and amusing 
of the same sort. 

Secondly, they stripped Him of His clothes, as St. Matthew 
says, 4 — Et exuentes eum —and it was no little cruelty when He 
had covered Himself with His garments, and after so many 
wounds and so much shedding of blood, to make Him take 
them off again; nor was it a small insult for an honourable 
Man to have to appear naked and scourged before so great 
.a number of soldiers. 

Thirdly, they clothed Him with a cloak of scarlet or purple, 
or, to speak more correctly, they wrapped Him in an old rag 
which had once been a cloak, or garment, of scarlet. This 
appears to be signified in what St. Matthew says, Chlamydem 
coccineam circumdederunt ei. St. John 5 makes use of the same 
expression, Et veste purpurea circumdederunt eum , because in 
this way, by the colour of the garment (which was purple) and 
the fashion of it (which was a cloak, the military dress of the 
Emperors), they signified that this Man had desired to make 
Himself King; and the purple vestment being old, torn, and 
.faded, and thrown over Him negligently and wound around 
Him, they signified thus that all His pretensions had been 
nothing more than absurdity and folly. 

Fourthly, like to the purple garment was also His crown. 
It was made of sharp reeds woven together , 6 or of briars and 
thorns, as strong and sharp as we see them at the present day 
in divers churches, where they are kept with the greatest 
reverence. This crown was woven by the soldiers with great 

2 XV. 16. 3 xxvii. 27. 4 Ibid. 28. 5 xix. 2. 

0 St. Matt, xxvii. 29. 



200 


The Sacred Passion. 


care, using instruments that they might not hurt their hands. 
They wove it either in the form of a wreath, as it is ordinarily 
painted, or, as paany think, in the shape of a helmet or casque, 
which covered all His head. Having thus plaited it, they 
raised it up and settled it on His head, hammering it down 
with great force and no less cruelty, insulting Him with this- 
crown, as being a pretended King, and wounding Him with 
the thorns, with very acute pain. In this manner our Saviour- 
desired that for His friends and faithful followers suffering and 
insult should be as two jewels of inestimable price, which in 
His Kingdom He had fastened to His Crown. 

Fifthly, they put in His right hand a reed instead of a 
sceptre, as St. Matthew says , 7 Et arundinem in dexter a ejus — 
‘A reed in His right hand.’ And by it they meant to charac¬ 
terize Him as empty headed, as a false vain and unstable man, 
like a reed; they also signified thereby that His kingdom was 
pure nonsense, without any substance or stability. 

Sixthly, after having invested Him with these insignia und 
appearances of a mock king, they began to make game of Him 
with jests and nicknames and laughter, and amongst other- 
jests they bowed their knees before Him, wishing Him joy of 
His kingdom, and saying, ‘ Hail, King of the Jews/ as says 
St. Mark , 8 Et ponentes genua , adorabant eum ; and St. Matthew, 
Et genu flexo ante eum, illudebant ei, dicentes: Ave, Rex Judce- 
orum. 

Seventhly, they spat in His face, which is a sign of the most 
supreme contempt, defacing Him and making Him like an 
unclean leper, marked with blows, besmeared with their filthy 
spittle, mingled with the precious blood that dropped from His 
head. This outrage and insult of their spitting in His face, had 
been so present to the eyes of our Saviour that He made par¬ 
ticular and express mention of it when, going up to Jerusalem,. 
He gave an account of His Passion to His disciples; for He 
spoke to them thus in St. Mark , 9 Et illudent ei, et conspuent eum; 
in St. Luke , 10 Tradetur enim gentibus , et illudetur , etflagellabitur y 
et conspuetur. 

7 St. Matt, xxvii. 19. 8 xv. 19. 9 x. 34. 10 xviii. 32. 




The Purple Robe. 


201 


Eighthly, they gave Him many buffets on the face, which 
are particularly noted by the Evangelist St. John, when he 
says, Et veniebant ad eum , et dicebani: Ave Rex Judceorum .- 11 
et dabant ei alapas. Thus, while they went one after the other 
to salute Him and bend their knees, pretending that they 
wanted to kiss His hand as being a King, they raised their 
own and gave Him blows with their open palms. 

Ninthly, others came, and offering Him the like homage, 
took the reed out of His hand and gave Him blows with it 
upon the head, insulting Him with the blows of this hollow 
cane, and wounding Him with the sharp thorns which they 
drove further into His head. St. Matthew speaks of this , 12 
Acceperunt arundinem etpercutiebant caput ejus ; and St. Mark , 1:1 
Et percutiebant caput ejus arundine. 

The soldiers selected for the scene of this representation the 
praetorium of the Governor, as St. Matthew says , 14 and not any 
out of the way part of it, but the hall itself, as St. Mark particu¬ 
larly declares, Milites autem duxerunt eum in atrium prcetoriiP 
The soldiers led Him into the hall of the praetorium, which 
must have been some large and spacious court, as was requisite 
for the numbers of people who were accustomed to assemble 
there, in front of the praetorium or tribunal where audience was 
given. Hither they dragged our Saviour, and stripped Him 
rudely of His garments, and placed Him on some low and 
mean seat, where they could carry on their jest and amuse 
themselves more conveniently. There they first brought the 
purple robe, which was a large cloak or cape, open in front, 
fastened at the breast by a buckle or hook, and this as we have 
already said, was the insignia of kings, and the Emperors were 
accustomed to send such vestments to their friends as a mark 
of honour. This cloak the soldiers put upon Him, and whilst 
putting it on they doubtless exclaimed— £ This purple, Lord 
King, the Emperor sends to Thee from Rome, because Thou 
art worthy of it; * then spitting at Him in the face and giving 
Him blows, they left Him with it round Him all disordered, 
His naked body being here and there exposed to view. Then 

11 xix. 3. 12 xxvii. 30. 13 xv. 19. 14 xxvii. 27. 15 xv. 16. 



202 


The Sacred Passion . 


others came with the sceptre of reed, and placed it in His 
hand, saying — 4 Take this reed in Thy hand, for such is as Thy 
kingdom, such is the sceptre, the one as hollow as the other. 
And now hold Your head right,’ and then on His head they 
placed the crown of thorns, pressing it down violently. 4 Since 
Thou art about to die for being King, it is not meet that Thou 
shouldst die without a crown, nevertheless it will be as wretched 
a crown as is fitting for one Who has been condemned for making 
Himself King, therefore these are the thorns which Thou hast 
sown for Thyself by Thy vain pretensions.’ So saying, they 
gave Him blows upon the head, inflicting on Him by all this 
great dishonour and contempt, and also causing Him at the 
same time the most intense suffering. With such a crown as 
that upon His head the blood began to drop and trickle 
through His hair upon His neck, down His brow, and over 
His most sacred face; and then the light of His eyes was 
obscured, and that head fallen and humiliated which is chief 
of men and angels, in order that through His humiliation we 
who had fallen should raise our heads and say to the Lord , 1 * 3 
Tu autem Domine susceptor mens es, gloria mea , et exaltans caput 
meum — 4 Thou, O Lord, art my helper, my glory, and the lifter 
up of my head.’ 

Our Saviour being thus arrayed by the soldiers with 
such a sceptre and such purple and such a crown, they began 
to sport and to entertain themselves with Him, mocking 
at His Kingdom as being that of a madman and a fool, 
bowing the knees, and offering Him marks of courtesy and 
homage with shouts of laughter; giving Him blows on the face 
and striking Him on the head, and saying to Him — 4 May 
God save Thee, King of the Jews ! ’ deriding Him because 
He had pretended to be King and had fallen into so miserable 
a state. Very similar to these wretched soldiers are the hypo¬ 
crites, who, honouring God with their lips and by exterior 
ceremonies, are far from Him in their hearts, and by their 
works dishonour and offend Him, as did these hypocritical 
worshippers of the Lord, who, bending the knee to do Him 
16 Psalm iii. 4. 



Our Saviour s Coronation. 


203 


reverence, raised their hands to deal Him blows. Who is there 
who could complain of offences or contempt, seeing what our 
Saviour suffered in His only Person ? 

Let us, however, take our eyes off these unjust and cruel 
men, and let us turn them to our Lord Who is suffering, seeing 
that there is so much to gaze upon in Him Who remained so 
firm and constant in such heavy straits, even as Isaias had 
prophesied of Him, 17 giving His body to the strikers and His 
cheeks to the buffeters and mockers, not turning His face from 
those who reviled Him and who spat upon Him. More 

powerful to support all that evil than His bold and cruel 
enemies to do it, He remained seated with the utmost calm¬ 
ness, dignity, serenity, and majesty, receiving these insignia of 
scorn as though they were really crowning Him King, and 
accepting their insults with as much pleasure as though they 
were in truth courtesies. Never was there Emperor who 
invested Himself with the purple, or took the crown and the 
sceptre in his hand at his coronation with so great gladness 
of heart, as our Saviour felt when He put on His body 
and adorned Himself with that ragged purple robe, and 
accepted the crown of thorns, and received in His hands the 
reed, desiring that, in that His day of honour and coronation, 
all the world, if it were possible, should be present. For those 
hundred soldiers of the cohort seemed few to Him Who, so 
many years before, had been so early to invite the souls of all 
men for that day. 18 Egredimini , et videte , filice Sion , regem 
Salomonem in dicidcmate , quo coronavit ilium mater sua in die 
desponsationis illius , et in die Icetitice cordis ejus — 1 Come forth, 
ye daughters of Sion,’ He says, 1 and see King Solomon in the 
diadem wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his 
espousals, and in the day of the joy of his heart.’ As this 
King was to be 19 magnified in holiness more than in worldly 
pomp, as His Kingdom was not of this world, it was meet that 
neither should the ceremonies of His consecration be worldly, 
and so those now performed were the fittest that could be, 
and those which His Eternal Father had determined on that 
17 1 . 6. 18 Cant. iii. 11. 39 Exod. xv. n. 



204 


The Sacred Passion. 


He might work the exaltation of His beloved and obedient 
Son. 

It was meet that the purple should be old and faded, and 
should cling to His recent wounds, and be stained afresh with 
His blood, inasmuch as the purple with which He was to be 
vested and adorned, and which was to represent the glory of 
His Kingdom, was His faithful servants, as is written in Isaias . 20 
‘As I live,’ saith the Lord, ‘thou shalt be clothed with all 
them as with an ornament, and as a bride thou shalt put them 
about thee.’ The Lord will make all those who are to be His 
purple garment and vestment well worn themselves, and faded 
through the decay of the old man, and putting them on His 
wounds He will give them new colour and beauty, and will 
renew them and make them beautiful and bright, because they 
have been freed from all their stains 21 and have washed their 
robes in the Blood of the Lamb. And thus our Lord will come 
to be the King of Kings, for all His servants will be clothed in 
purple, dyed in His most precious Blood. 

His crown also was made of thorns, nor could it be other¬ 
wise, nor was there anything else in the world of which it could 
be made, because whatever flourishes on the earth or is of any 
delight and glory, quickly fades away, and what abides are 
troubles, which like thorns pierce and wound. Of these thorns 
there is an abundant harvest in this valley of tears and country 
of malediction, and of these our true King and legitimate 
Sovereign made Himself partaker, that He might set us free 
from them, and those thorns which we have deserved fall upon 
His head. But these afflictions, which in us were the chastise¬ 
ment of sins, were in Him the meriting of eternal glory, and 
the thorns torn up from us and transplanted to the blessed and 
royal head of our Lord, and there watered with His precious 
Blood, brought forth the flowers of immortality,' and gained for 
us a crown that will never fade. The Lord, moreover, willed 
that His crown should be of thorns, because His Kingdom 
was to be firm and perpetual; and it was therefore necessary 
His crown should be such that it could be fixed and fastened 
20 xlix. 18. 21 Apoc. xxii. 14. 



Our Lord's Sceptre. 


205 


on His head in order to denote that no accident can make it 
fall off, and that no price can take it away. 

His sceptre was a reed, and so it ought to have been for 
the signification conveyed by it, although the effects which it 
produced were as great as though it had been made of iron, 
according to what is written: 22 , Reges eos in virga ferrea , et 
tanquam vasfiguli confringes eos —‘Thou shalt rule them with a 
rod of iron, and break them in pieces like a potter’s vessel.’ 
For He had to overcome provinces and kingdoms, and to tame 
the people, and humiliate His enemies, breaking and crushing 
them like earthern vessels, and making Himself Lord over 
them, according to what David himself says in another Psalm , 23 
Virgam virtutis tnee emittet Dominus ex Sion; dominare in 
medio inimicorum tnornm. The Lord will send forth the sceptre 
of thy power out of Sion, because thou hast conquered all the 
world, and been Lord over thine enemies.’ For from Sion the 
Apostles went forth and subdued the whole world by their 
word, and made it subject to the Kingdom of Christ; because 
their strength and virtue was that which had descended upon 
them from on high, they themselves being poor, ignorant, and 
weak men. But the Lord desired to subject and tame the 
whole power of the world, and bring it under authority with this 
weak reed, for the greater glory of His holy name. Therefore, 
one of the Apostles themselves said , 24 that ‘ the foolishness of 
God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger 
than men; ’ that is to say, that a reed placed in the hands of 
God is more powerful than all. And this weakness of God, 
says St. Athanasius , 25 was the Apostles, who, being ignorant 
men and unlettered, penetrated in a very short time throughout 
the whole world, and made subject its rulers and learned men, 
kings and powerful princes, and the sceptre of the power of 
God went forth from Sion to subdue His enemies. And, more¬ 
over, not only the Apostles who preached, but the faithful also 
who were converted, were the meekest and most abject of men 
who were in the world. And so the same Apostle says 26 — 

22 Psalm ii. 9. 23 cix. 2. 24 1 Cor. i. 25. 

25 Lib. Quest, ad Antioch , q. 129. 26 i Cor. i. 26. 





206 


The Sacred Passion . 


‘ Behold, brethren, those have been called to the faith, and you 
will fin'd that amongst you there are not many wise, nor many 
powerful, nor many noble, but that rather God has used the 
most ignorant in order to confound and put to shame the 
wise, and the weak of the world to confound the powerful, and 
the vile and despised, who have no reputation, no being, in the 
eyes of men, that He might destroy and bring to nought those 
who are something which shine in the world.’ And if, as the 
Apostle says here, God wills to confound the wise by means of 
the ignorant, and by the weak to ruin the powerful, and 
through the vile and contemptible to bring down those who 
shine and who hold the highest place, therefore, with a weak 
reed God chose to strive with the world, that no flesh may 
glory in His presence, nor attribute to its own strength the 
effects which flow from the strength of God. For this cause 
also the Lord willed that the sceptre of His kingdom should 
be a reed, so that the marvels which were to be done therewith 
might not be attributed to the weak reed, but to the arm of 
God which held it. 

All the other ceremonies that took place in this coronation 
of outrages inflicted upon our Saviour by word or deed were 
necessary to the stability of His Kingdom, which is founded in 
patience, in contempt of worldly honour, and a real renuncia¬ 
tion of all things. So that by this were instructed the holy 
confessors and martyrs, and all those who are of the Kingdom 
of Christ, and were taught patience and the endurance of all 
adverse things; and thus the Kingdom which is not of this 
world began to conquer and triumph over the world, not by 
resisting, but by suffering, not with pride and bravery, but with 
humility and simplicity. 

And that a coronation so solemn, and of so great a King, 
should not remain hidden in the prastorium and be confined 
to the sight of a few soldiers, God so ordered it that the 
Governor Himself should lead our Saviour by the hand, just as 
He was, to a public place where all the people could see Him. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 


Pilate brings our Saviour forth to the people , and they 
demand that He should be crucified. 

The place where Christ our Lord was crowned was, as we have 
said, the hall of the praetorium, which was a spacious court 
in front of the palace of the Governor, where was generally 
stationed the guard, and that cohort or company of the Roman 
soldiers which formed a portion of the garrison which the 
Republic maintained in Jerusalem. In this court there was a 
great gate, by which the Governor came out from his house 
into the praetorium, which was a wide and spacious hall, where 
he heard causes and pronounced sentence. In this hall there 
was also a door, which opened out upon a gallery raised some 
steps above the open court, in which were gathered together 
the Priests, the Scribes, the Pharisees, and the whole multitude 
of people, who from their scruples about the Pasch would not 
enter the praetorium. They were partly rejoicing to hear of the 
illtreatment which our Saviour was receiving at the hands of 
the soldiers, partly complaining that the conclusion of the cause 
and the sentence of death was so long delayed. 

Pilate now came forth from his house to the praetorium, 
desirous to find some means of moderating the hatred and 
calming the passions of the Jews. At his presence that cruel 
game in which the soldiers were indulging ceased, and they 
dispersed, some to one side and some on the other, and left 
Jesus in the midst of the court, where the Governor could see 
Him well, and be moved to compassion. Then, taking it 
for granted that the sight of Him would cause the same pity 
in the hearts of the Jews which it had caused in his, he bade 
Him follow him, and he led Him through the door of the 


208 


The Sacred Passion. 


praetorium to the balcony which looked down upon the court, 
and in sight of all the people. Our Lord came forth then, 
following the Governor, divested of His garments, cruelly 
scourged, His most sacred body flayed and wounded in many 
parts, and where it was not lacerated it was scored with the 
lashes and cords, and having nothing on His flesh but the old 
rag of a cloak which the soldiers had thrown over Him . 1 The 
•crown of thorns was on His head, and it is believed, although 
the Evangelist does not say so, that His hands were bound like 
a criminal, and that He held within them the reed, which, as 
well as the crown, served the purpose of dishonouring Him, 
-and making game of Him as a false King. His eyes were filled 
with tears, that flowed down from them and mingled with the 
blood trickling from His head; His cheeks were pale, stained 
with blood, and smeared with the spittle they had vomited in 
His face; His legs trembled, as much from cold as from 
weakness, and His whole body was bowed down and bent 
beneath the weight of insult and suffering. 

Pilate, keeping by his side this most pitiable figure, enough 
to move even wild beasts to compassion and to soften the most 
flinty heart, caused silence to be proclaimed, and then said in a 
loud voice 2 —‘ Behold, I bring Him forth unto you, that you 
may know that I have found no cause in Him.’ As if to say, 
I have had no other reason for bringing Him to this pass in 
which He is except to yield somewhat to your petition, to 
oblige you in some degree to yield to mine to leave Him His 
life.’ Then turning towards our Saviour, Who stood by him, 
and pointing to Him with his hand, he exclaimed 3 —* Behold 
the Man!’ desiring by means of so sad a spectacle to move 
them to compassion, and at the same time to make them 
assured that it was impossible that such a Man should ever 
again attempt to make Himself King. This is the meaning 
contained in that word, Ecce Homo. 

O iniquitous judge, if ever such were in the world, who, 
confessing now for the third time that, after having carefully 
examined into the matter, thou didst see no cause why this 
1 St. John xix. 5. 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid. 



“Behold the Man!" 


209 


Man should be chastized, hast nevertheless reduced Him to 
' such a state of misery, that knowing the fury of His enemies, 
thou imaginest that merely to behold Him would move them to 
compassion ! O Angels of Heaven, who were present at this 
spectacle, if you could but have been seen kneeling and 
prostrate, reverencing this holy Humanity and confessing that 
all your love was as ice compared with the burning flames of 
His charity ! if you could but have been seen with your hands 
crossed, confessing that it was His will and commandment only 
which kept them bound and prevented you from revenging His 
injuries! O people of the Jews, once the chosen and beloved 
of God, and now justly reprobated and rejected by Him, how 
is it that so much blindness has fallen upon your eyes, and such 
hardness on your hearts, and now that you have placed the cause 
in the hands of a profane and Gentile judge, wherefore do you 
not submit to his decision and agree to his sentence ? You once 
closed your ears to the Voice of God, open them at least to the 
words of the Governor Pilate, who from that high place and in 
presence of our Saviour Himself, in order that he might put you 
to shame and move you to compassion, stood there and cried out, 
Ecce Homo —‘ Behold the Man ! do you see what kind of Man 
you are accusing ? This is He Whom you delivered up to me, 
and Whom perchance you cannot recognize after the rigorous 
chastisement which He has undergone ; see what a Man for 
you to accomplish such great fury against; behold Him now, 
not decorated with empire, but disgraced with opprobrium; if 
you were envious of Him as King, pity Him now as miserable; 
be assured and persuaded that He will never again assume 
the name of a King, which has cost Him so dear. He is 
disgraced, scourged by justice, crowned with thorns, clothed 
in an old purple rag, dishonoured by every species of insult, 
outraged with shame and inventions of injury, what more 
do you ask? You have obtained far more than you could 
have desired or asked, and I, through regard to you, have 
done much more than what I wished or intended, and as 
the penalty and ignominy inflicted upon Him have been 
so excessive, it is but reason that your hatred should 
o 



210 


The Sacred Passion. 


cease, and that your anger should be moderated and your 
envy mitigated.’ 

Who would think that the authority of the Governor and 
the presence of our Saviour would not obtain from the people all 
that was asked of them? Nevertheless, it was just the reverse, 
for the High Priests and Ministers of the Synagogue, whose 
office it was to make the people listen to reason, were, on the 
contrary, those who excited and fed the fire of envy and hatred 
against our Saviour . 4 For, hearing what Pilate said, and under¬ 
standing what he intended to do, and forgetful of their own 
authority and of the clemency they ought to have shown by 
reason of their dignity and office, they began to lift up their 
voices in the middle of the court, which was filled with people, 
and to cry out, ‘Crucify Him, crucify Him.’ As if to say, 

‘ What has been done is well, but finish it thoroughly, for He 
well deserves to be put on the cross.’ 

This answer could not but seem very strange to Pilate. 
He had come himself in person out of the praetorium, and had 
set himself to reason with the people in so public a place, and 
he would not have taken so much pains, or risked his own 
authority, if he had not been persuaded that by means of the 
pitiable spectacle of our Saviour, and his own gentle and 
courteous reasoning, he should bring over the priests, and 
obtain from the people what he desired. But seeing their 
obstinacy, and astonished at their hardness, as well as enraged 
at their rudeness, and angry, moreover, that his designs should 
fail and not turn out as he thought, he was filled with vexation 
and disdain, like a man whose schemes had come to nought, 
and who was utterly at fault, he exclaimed, ‘ Take Him then, 
you , 5 and crucify Him, for I find no cause in Him.’ As 
though he had said, ‘ Do you think that I am to condemn an 
innocent man because of your cries and shoutings ? Do you 
perchance desire to revenge your hatred by my hands, and to 
make of me the instrument wherewith to appease your envy ? 
Not so shall it be, for I am the administrator of justice, and it 
is not for me to be the author of injustice and of oppression. 

4 St. John xix. 6. 5 Ibid. 



The Son of God. 


211 


I am a judge to punish the guilty, and not the executioner of 
the innocent. What I have done hitherto has not been to 
punish Him, but to free Him out of your hands, and because 
I hoped to find in you some spark of humanity if I yielded 
somewhat to your wishes. Now that you have shown your¬ 
selves so plainly, there is nothing to make me think of going 
further, for neither reason nor justice permits any one to be 
condemned without cause, and I have found none in this Man 
to justify what you ask, not even what has already been done 
to Him. If, however, you have found any, take Him and 
crucify Him, and let it be at your own risk and on your own 
account, that you may give an account to whoever will require 
it at your own hands for so unjust a homicide.’ 

When the Chief Priests heard this answer of Pilate, they 
perceived immediately that these words, ‘ Take Him you and 
crucify Him,’ were not so much a permission given to them to 
do it as a means whereby he might rid himself of the business, 
and avoid doing a thing so unjust, as well as to brand them as 
carried away by passion in asking it, and as daring and devoid 
of shame in having no hesitation about executing it. Then, in 
order to show the Governor that they resented his words, and 
to trouble him by a new accusation, they said to him , 6 ‘Yes, 
we have a law, and according to our law this Man ought to die, 
because He has made Himself the Son of God.’ As if they 
had said, ‘Thou, Pilate, hast affirmed many times that this 
Man is innocent, and that thou hast no wish and will not dare 
to crucify Him, but that we should crucify Him ourselves, as 
though we were men without a law and without God. But we 
have a law, and a law given by the true God, and if, according 
to your law you have found no cause in this Man, it is because 
you adore many gods, and you think that they have sons, 
and you do not deem it an evil thing that men should make 
themselves sons of God. But according to our holy law 
which knows but one true God, this man is guilty of death 
as a blasphemer, because He has made Himself the true Son 
of God.’ 


O 2 


6 St. John xix. 7. 





212 


The Sacred Passion . 


Oh, blind obstinacy and vain presumption of the Jews, who- 
boasted and gloried in having received a law from the hand of 
God, and desired to show themselves very observant of it t 
But it has already been seen how they observed it; not entering 
into the prastorium during the Pasch, that they might not be 
contaminated, and being very zealous, even as our Lord had 
already reproved them, 7 in paying tithes of anise and of 
cummin, forgetting the weightier and more important matters 
of the law, judgment, and mercy. For mercy was so foreign 
to their nature, that, although they were priests, they had none 
of it, whilst the judge, albeit he was a Gentile, felt it; and 
judgment was so far from them, that they committed a thousand 
wrongs in this process itself, confounding all justice, and 
changing their charge just as often as it was convenient, in 
order to suit their purpose. For, first they accused Him of 
making Himself King and preventing the people from paying 
tribute to Caesar, and then, when they saw that the Governor 
could not discover any proofs of the crime or any substance in 
the accusation, they accused Him of another crime, which the 
Governor could less understand, which would perplex him 
more—that He had sought to make Himself the Son of God. 
And to make the matter still more obscure, they cited their 
law, which he was not acquainted with nor was he under any 
obligation to be so, saying, ‘We have a law, and according to 
our law He ought to died What, however, were the laws 
which were alleged by these most sapient doctors and 
advocates of injustice and iniquity? What a law was this, 
which condemned to death whoever should call himself the 
Son of God ? It could not be any other than that which was 
given against blasphemers, in the twenty fourth chapter of 
Leviticus, 8 where God decrees that 1 he that blasphemeth the 
name of the Lord, dying he should died But this people 
regarded it as a great blasphemy that our Saviour should say 
He was God, or the Son of God, and therefore it was that 
when on one occasion they took up stones to stone Him, 9 
J esus said to them, ‘ Many good works I have showed you 
7 St. Matt, xxiii. 23. 8 xxiv. 16. 9 St. John x. 31. 



The Charge of Blasphemy. 


21 


o 


from My Father; for which of these works do ye stone Me?’ 
and the Jews answered, ‘For a good work we stone Thee not, 
but for blasphemy, and because that Thou, being a man, 
makest Thyself God.’ Why then, blind and perverse people, 
if this were blasphemy, why do you now demand Him to be put 
to death ? Why did you not stone Him then ? How is it that 
you were so confounded by the few words He spoke in His 
own defence, that you were unable to utter a single word in 
reply ? And the stones which you had in your hands then, and 
which you did not use, do you wish to cast them at Him now 
that He does not attempt to defend Himself, and that the 
Governor cannot understand your reasons ? And if He was to 
die for this blasphemy, wherefore should He die on the cross, 
since the law only commands that He should be stoned ? Et 
qui blasphemaverit nomen Domini, morte moriatur,' lapidibns 
opprimet eum omnis multitude) 10 —‘He who shall blaspheme the 
name of the Lord, dying he shall die, the whole multitude 
shall stone him.’ You yourselves are testimonies, that for this 
self same cause (which you call blasphemy), you desired many 
times to stone Him . 11 What, pray then, is this which now 
impels you to deliver Him over to the secular arm, and so 
urgently to demand for Him the death of the cross ? If it be 
not lawful for you, as you say , 12 to put any man to this kind of 
death, how is it that it is lawful for you to ask for it ? And if 
the crime of which you accuse Him does not merit the penalty 
of death, except according to your own law, wherefore do you 
require any other kind of death than that which is commanded 
by your law ? and the Romans having no law which condemns 
this blasphemy, why do ye ask that it be punished with this 
punishment, which the laws of the Romans alone inflict ? 

All these things show the blindness of that people, and 
how great was the passion and the pride with which they said, 
‘We have a law, and according to that law He ought to die, 
because He makes Himself the Son of God.’ But just as 
Caiaphas, without knowing what he said, prophesied that our 
Saviour must die that all the people might not perish, so these 
10 Lev. xxiv. 16. 11 St. John x. 33. 12 Ibid, xviii. 31. 



The Sacred Passion . 


214 


men also, without knowing what they said, gave utterance to a 
very true and mysterious thing. For first, it was true that their 
law was given them by God, and their prophecies revealed 
and dictated by God, and their sacrifices ordained by God. It 
was also true that our Saviour had preached many times that 
He was the Son of God, whereby He did injury to none , 13 nor 
did seize that which was not His, since He was God, and the 
Son of God. He was likewise Man, and had become Man for 
our sakes, and was a just and holy Man, not having any taint 
of fault or sin. And being such, agreeably to all law, He ought 
to have lived and been honoured and worshipped by all; and it 
was only according to the law of the Jews that He ought to 
die, because so it was written in the law and prefigured in all 
the sacrifices, and prophesied by the prophets, and the whole 
of that law proclaimed nothing but that one thing, namely, that 
the Son of God made Man must die, and not by any common 
death, but by the death of the Cross, through obedience to His 
Father and for the salvation of the world. It was for this that 
our Saviour, speaking of His death, said , 14 ‘ That as Moses lifted 
up a serpent of brass on a pole in the desert, in order that by 
looking on it all might be healed who had been bitten by real 
serpents, so was it meet that the Son of the Virgin should be 
lifted on the Cross, that all who looked on Him in faith and 
with love might be saved.’ 

Let not Pilate, then, think that he made a spectacle of 
Christ in vain, although he could not move to compassion the 
Jews who were there, since so many have been healed since 
that time from the poisonous serpent wounds of their sins by 
looking on Him, and have beheld the sufferings of our Lord 
with such great compassion that they have been scourged and 
crowned with thorns, and crucified in their hearts with Him ! 

Let us all, then, behold this Man God, Whom so many 
kings, so many patriarchs and prophets, desired to see. Let US' 
behold the Man to listen to His words, since He is the 
Teacher Whom the Eternal Father has given us. Let us 
behold the Man, that we may imitate His life and walk in 

14 St. John iii. 14. 


33 Phil. ii. 6. 



Let us “ behold the Man 


215 


His footsteps, for there is no other way by which we can be 
saved but through Him. Let us behold the Man, in order to 
compassionate Him, for the state in which we see Him is 
enough to move to pity even those who wish Him ill. Let 
us fix our eyes on the Man, in order to weep and do penance, 
since we, by our sins, have brought Him to be what He is. 
Let us behold the Man, for none who do not thus behold Him 
can escape eternal death ; for He is the brazen serpent lifted 
up in the desert, that those who look upon Him may not 
perish. Let us gaze on the face of the Man, meditating always 
upon Him, and regulating our life by Him, that in Him, as in a 
looking glass, we may see our defects, and knowing what those 
are which deform us, we may take the tears and the blood 
which flow down His beautiful face, and with sorrow wash our 
stains in them, and we shall become pure and lovely in His 
divine sight. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 


Pilate examines our Saviour again , and endeavours to 
free Him from death. 

The Chief Priests and ministers of the Jews hated our Saviour 
without a cause (according to what was written in their law), 
and therefore instead of being moved to compassion 1 when the 
Judge brought Him before them, they became all the more 
angry and demanded the cross for Him, accusing Him of 
blasphemy because He had made Himself Son of God . 2 When 
Pilate heard these words he was filled with still greater fear, as 
the Evangelist says, although it had been no little fear which 
he had felt before up to this time from the moment that this 
affair had come into his hands, for it had always seemed to him 
very entangled and dangerous. Now, however, his fear was 
greatly increased by this new accusation, that Christ had made 
Himself the Son of God. For it must be borne in mind that 
the Chief Priests had hitherto been silent respecting this crime 
of calling Himself the Son of God, and had only urged that He 
had wished to make Himself King; this being a crime that 
touched the dignity of Caesar, and because they imagined that 
it would be with Pilate as it usually is with many other judges, 
that he would be more zealous in punishing a wrong committed 
against his King than a crime against God. As to the accusa¬ 
tion as to the crime against Caesar, Pilate had been very much 
afraid, for on the one hand he saw the innocence of our Saviour, 
Who had sinned in nothing, either against the Jews or against 
the Emperor. But, on the other hand, he saw the envy and 
fury of the people, who with so much pertinacity accused Him 
of a crime so hateful against the Imperial dignity and revenues, 

1 St. John xix. 6. 2 Ibid. 8. 


Fears of Pilate. 


217 


that the mere mention of it laid him under the obligation, as a 
loyal subject, of making a great show of severity in the matter. 
So he was very much perplexed and did not know what course 
to take. For, if he condemned Him, besides its being a 
criminal thing to condemn an innocent man through fear, any 
one, moreover, who wished him ill might require at his hand 
the death of so great a saint and so distinguished a prophet. 
And if he absolved Him, then the whole people and the Chief 
Priests and rulers might accuse him of setting free a traitor who 
desired to take possession of the throne, a thing of which it 
would be easy to persuade the Emperor. Seeing himself, then, 
in this anxiety, like a timeserving and weakminded man in 
defence of the truth, he made use of such measures as human 
prudence had suggested to him. For he had first endeavoured 
to extricate himself from the business by remitting it to Herod, 
and afterwards he desired as much as he could to come to a 
compromise with the people; seeking out for some good way 
of making them of their own freewill desire to leave our Saviour 
with His life. He had, therefore, had resort to two measures. 
The first was to put Christ in competition with Barabbas, at the 
cost of His honour; and the second, scourging Him grievously 
and crowning Him with thorns, at-the cost of His body. 

Neither of these two measures had been successful. Rather, 
working on these fears and human considerations, the priests 
accused Him anew of having made Himself the Son of God, 
and if Pilate had already been afraid he became much more so 
now, for the answer made by our Saviour came to his remem¬ 
brance, that His Kingdom was not of this world, and that He 
had come into the world to give testimony of the truth. On the 
other hand, having beheld so much dignity in His demeanour, 
and so much prudence in His answers, and (what he marvelled 
at still more) so much constancy and fortitude in His silence, 
having heard, moreover, the wonderful things which were told 
of Him, it did not seem to him as though it were very unlikely 
to be true that He should be what He said He was. He was 
strengthened in some degree in this surmise through the false 
opinions of the heathen, who were commonly persuaded that 



2 18 


The Sacred Passion . 


their gods had sons amongst men, which sons, if on the side of 
their mothers they were mortal and passible, on the side of their 
fathers they had excellent virtues and performed heroic deeds. 
And as the miracles which were recounted of our Saviour were 
so many and so great, that it did not seem possible they could 
proceed from any but divine power, his opinion that perchance 
He was a son of God, was not removed because he saw that 
He was passible and mortal. On this Pilate began to be 
disturbed because he had scourged and made a jest of a man 
who might be a son of God, and much more to fear and be in 
doubt respecting what he was further to do, for he found himself 
placed between the chance of either absolving a blasphemer or 
crucifying a son of God, and both for one and the other he had 
good cause to fear the anger and punishment of Heaven. 

The matter seeming to him very serious and worthy of deep 
consideration, Pilate entered once more into his pnetorium or 
audience chamber, thoughtful and full of fears and anxiety, and 
calling our Saviour apart, he asked Him , 3 ‘ Whence art Thou ? ’ 
He did not ask concerning His country, for he already knew 
that He was a Galilean, but concerning His origin and nature, 
as though he had said, ‘ What is this about divinity of which 
Thy fellow countrymen accuse Thee? Of what lineage art 
Thou ? Who are Thy fathers ? Dost Thou come from heaven 
or from some hidden and remote portion of the earth? Dost 
Thou derive Thy origin from any of the gods, or art Thou pure 
man?’ All this was implied in that pregnant and anxious 
inquiry, ‘Whence art Thou?’ 

Our Saviour, seeing that this inquiry sprang partly from the 
worldly fear of some punishment or temporal loss, partly from 
the error of the heathen who gave sons to their gods, and 
knowing that neither was this a fitting season to declare so 
sublime a truth as was that of His eternal generation, nor was 
Pilate in a disposition of mind to listen to it, nor had he the 
capacity to understand or believe it, determined to be silent 
and not to answer a word, but to preserve His accustomed 
gravity and modesty, especially as the inquiry did not appear 
3 St. John xix. 9. 



Our Saviour's Silence. 


219 


to Him to be necessary as regarded the cause which was in 
hand, Pilate having been satisfied as he was of His innocence, 
for the establishment of which it was sufficient for Him to have 
answered in general terms that His Kingdom was not of this 
world. If, then, He were King, and not of this world, it was 
easy to understand that His Kingdom was spiritual and divine, 
and such a kingdom is peculiarly the Kingdom of God. And 
although it be true that our Lord had twice replied to the 
priests 4 as to the same question, affirming clearly that He was 
the Son of God, He did this because the priests, by means of 
the light which they had received from the Scriptures, knew 
better what they asked, and were more bound to understand 
and believe it. But He did not wish to reply to the heathen 
Governor, because he neither knew what he was asking nor 
was he in a state to believe it, and His reply would only have 
served to increase the esteem he had conceived of Him, and 
the fear he was in of condemning Him. As little did He wish 
that any one should imagine He desired to save Himself from 
death, by persuading a man who was a layman and a Gentile 
of what the Chief Priests and Scribes had looked upon as 
blasphemy. Thus was our Lord silent as to what was in 
defence of Himself and His honour, and spoke when it was 
necessary for the honour of God and the good of those who 
listened. Thus when He did not answer He was silent as a 
lamb, and when He replied He taught us as a Shepherd. 

Pilate had expected that our Lord would give him some 
kindly and grateful answer, and some reason which would be a 
defence of Himself, and he was more astounded by His silence 
than perhaps he would have been by any reply whatever. For 
that in such a matter, and one so full of danger, a criminal 
should make no reply to his judge, and a judge who had 
defended him with so much energy and had taken so much 
trouble on his account, was a thing new and worthy of marvel. 
Nor, perhaps, could there be any words whatever by means of 
which a man without faith could have been so confirmed in the 
opinion which he was conceiving about the Son of God, as did. 

4 St. Matt. xxvi. 64 ; St. Luke xxii. 70. 



220 


The Sacred Passion. 


this His silence now. Then, permitting Him to see that he was 
a little annoyed, and that he complained of the little account 
our Lord made of him, and at the same time intimating to 
Him with much goodwill the line He had better take to serve 
His own cause well, he said to Him 5 —‘Why dost Thou not 
speak to me, since even if I were not Thy judge Thou oughtest 
to speak to me in return for the good offices I am doing Thee? 
Dost Thou not know that I have power to crucify Thee, and 
power also (if it seem good to me) to release Thee?’ By these 
words Pilate condemned himself out of his own mouth, so that 
it availed him nothing that he washed his hands that he might 
lay the guilt of our Lord’s death on the Jews, for although he 
was wanting in courage and determination, he himself con¬ 
fessed that he had power to release Him. 

This speech was, nevertheless, arrogant and tyrannical, 
claiming the power to bestow life or to take it away. Because 
in legitimate judges their power must follow justice, and not go 
before it, and thus, although they have the power of releasing 
the innocent and condemning the guilty, they have it not to 
absolve the guilty and crucify the innocent, as did those two 
perverse judges to whom Daniel said 6 —‘ Thou who art grown 
old in evil days, how are thy sins come to fall on thee which 
thou hast committed before in proclaiming unjust judgments ! 
oppressing the innocent and letting the guilty to go free, 
whereas the Lord saith, the innocent and the just Thou shalt 
not kill.’ These are those judges whose heads are affected by 
the strong wine of power, and who turn the law upside down 
so as not to come to judge in conformity with justice and 
reason, and who, blinded by their interests or ambition, know 
how to conduct a case in such a manner that it shall result in 
the guilty issuing as innocent, and the innocent as guilty. 
Therefore it was that the Prophet Isaias said 7 —‘Woe to you 
that call evil good, and good evil. . . . Woe to you that are 
mighty to drink wine and stout men at drunkenness; that 
justify the wicked for gifts, and take away the justice of the 
just from him.’ 

5 St. John xix. io. 6 Dan. xiii. 52, 53. 7 v. 20, 22, 23. 



Power from above. 


221 


Now, in order to show that this abuse on the part of judges 
was so much to the prejudice of the public weal and to the 
dishonour of God (from Whom all legitimate power is derived), 
our Lord, Who is Universal Judge of the living and the dead, 
and Who had come to this world to give testimony of the 
truth, in the midst of His anguish and the profound silence 
which He was maintaining, chose not to remain longer silent, 
or to fail to give testimony to a truth so important, and in 
circumstances which so urgently demanded it. Therefore, when 
the Governor said to Him—‘Knowest Thou not that I have 
power to crucify Thee ? ’ our Saviour, in order to rebuke his 
pride and defend the honour of His own Eternal Father, from 
Whom all power is communicated; in order also to show that 
the dispensation of His Passion and death did not depend 
on the will and pleasure of Pilate, but on the will of God,, 
answered him , 8 ‘Thou shouldst not have any power against Me, 
unless it were given thee from above.’ For besides that Pilate 
had no legitimate power to condemn our Saviour, even the 
power which he had to crucify Him, in fact, he would not have 
had, if it had not been permitted by God, Who thought well 
at that time to leave the powers of darkness free. ‘ Think not 
then, Pilate, that thou art absolute in this matter, for to Him 
Who gave thee power thou art bound to give an account of 
the good or bad use thou makest of it. For this cause also, 
though thy sin was great in not judging Me in accordance with 
justice, those who delivered Me into thy hands have committed 
a much greater sin, since, blinded by envy and hatred, they 
have misrepresented My case and perverted its justice, and 
given Me over to a Pagan judge, putting force on him, and 
terrifying him in order that he might crucify Me.’ 

Pilate being warned by these words that he had a Superior 
in heaven to Whom he would have to give an account of what 
he did, and considering that even if the sin of the Jews was 
greater, still his own sin would be great if he condemned Him, 
fear began to find entrance into his heart, and if he had 
hitherto desired to favour Him , 9 from that time he openly 
8 St.John xix. n. 9 Ibid. 12. 



2 22 


The Sacred Passion. 


declared how he desired to release Him, and sought for ways 
and means to do so. The Jews, however, when they under¬ 
stood this , 10 began to shout, persevering in their demands, and 
leaving for the future the accusation of blasphemy, because 
they saw that it had no effect upon the Governor, they returned 
to their first accusation regarding the pretensions which our 
Lord had made to be King, saying—‘ If thou givest liberty to 
a man such as this, it is clear that thou art not a friend to 
Caesar, for whosoever maketh himself a King is against Caesar.’ 
As if to say—‘If it does not move thee that He is a blas¬ 
phemer against God, at least it ought to move thee that He is 
a traitor against Caesar. Thou art the minister of Caesar; in 
his name thou dost govern this province, thou art here in this 
city in order to defend and enlarge his jurisdiction and 
authority. It is very well that we, inspired by zeal to serve 
the Emperor, and to show ourselves loyal to his crown, have 
delivered to thee this Man, although He is our fellow country¬ 
man, and that thou desirest to defend and protect Him. We 
will give the Emperor to understand what sort of ministers his 
are, and who it is in whom he has confided ! ’ 

These, and similar threats, they shouted into the ears of the 
Governor, who, like a bad minister and a weak judge, feared 
more to lose the friendship of Cassar than that of God. And 
for this God chastized him by means of the same Caesar , 11 who 
deprived him of his office and his life. When he had heard 12 
and reflected upon those last words concerning the friendship 
of Caesar, they had so great influence on him that he was 
constrained to yield, and 13 ‘the Chief Priests with loud voices 
requiring that He might be crucified, and their voices grew 
and prevailed.’ And Pilate determined to condescend to them 
and to do as they required. 

10 St. John xix. 12. 

Josephus, 1 . xviii. Antiq. c. xvii .; Euseb. 1 . ii. Histor. Eccles. c. vii. 

12 St. John xix. 13. 13 St. Luke xxiii. 23, 24. 


11 



CHAPTER XXV. 


Pilate pronounces se7ite7ice of death 071 our Saviour. 

Pilate, disturbed by the shouts of the Jews, and by the fear 
he had of Caesar, deemed that it would be easier to set at 
nought the humility and silence of our Saviour than the fury 
and hatred of His accusers. He therefore resolved to give 
sentence against our Saviour, and thereby to content and 
appease the Jews. It must have been a little after half past 
ten or nearly eleven o’clock, according to our reckoning , 1 when 
Pilate at last settled to yield and to arrive at this determination. 
From that time he set himself to perform, by way of supple¬ 
ment, all the ceremonies necessary for completing the process, 
and for pronouncing sentence with the solemnity which the 
laws and custom required. 

First, then, he seated himself 2 pro tribunali —‘on his 
tribunal,’ in the place which in Greek is called Lithostrotos, 
and in Hebrew Gabbatha. This tribunal was lofty and elevated 
(for this is the signification of Gabbatha ), and its floor was 
curiously composed of small stones of various colours, giving 
an appearance of wealth and majesty, such as the Greeks call 
Lithostrotos. It joined on to the outer hall of the praetorium, 
and was open and visible from the whole piece of ground in 
front, and it could be entered from behind from the praetorium. 
Pilate, then , 3 brought Jesus forth, that is to say, he brought 
Him out of the praetorium where he had questioned Him to 
this place, and seating himself there, pro tribunali —‘on his 
judgment seat,’ in the sight of all the people of the Jews who 
were there present, to show them how unreasonably and without 
cause they had raised all the tumult, he said to them 4 — Ecce 
1 St. John xix. 14. 2 Ibid. 13. 3 Ibid. 4 Ibid. 14. 


224 


The Sacred Passion. 


Rex vester / As though he had said—‘ Behold this Man Whom 
you have accused of desiring to make Himself a King; He has 
not the mien of a King, and hardly even the figure of a man.’ 
And when they still cried out—‘ Away with Him, away with 
Him, crucify Him/ Pilate, as though mocking them and laughing 
at them, said—‘Am I to crucify your King?’ That is—‘Will 
you allow yourselves to be so outraged and insulted as to 
permit it to be said that I executed upon a cross Him Who 
made Himself your King?’ But they cried out, saying that 
they did not desire or recognize Him to be their King, nor had 
they any other King than Caesar. This is what those questions 
and answers signified, according to the letter of the history, and 
in so far as was visible to the senses. 

If, however, we desire to behold the mysterious secret which 
was inclosed therein, we shall find that two entirely different 
causes were treated of here. The first had regard to our Saviour, 
whether He should be crucified or not, and the whole weight 
of it depended on the question wdiether He were a blasphemer 
against God or a traitor against Caesar, these things being the 
two articles of His accusation, respecting which the Judge had 
three times exonerated Him, and had testified publicly to His 
innocence. The second cause had regard to the State and the 
people of the Jews—whether it were to be reprobated and 
punished, and thenceforward neither be nor call itself the 
people of God. And the turning point of this cause lay in their 
either receiving Jesus Christ our Lord as their King and 
Messias, or rejecting and denying Him, according to what is 
•written in Daniel , 5 that the people who should deny Him 
should not be His people any more. And just as the Jewish 
people made use of the Governor of the Romans to carry out 
their ends against our Saviour, so God our Lord also made 
use of the self same Governor against the Jews, making 
him a witness of His innocence and a proclaimer of His 
Kingdom, and putting into his mouth words and reasonings 
which, perchance, he did not himself understand when he 
uttered them. 


5 ix. 26. 



“Behold your King!” 


225 


The Governor, then, was seated in his seat of judgment, 
and about to pronounce a definitive sentence on these two 
matters; and although it is true that during the Passion the 
Jews had already openly declared themselves by accusing our 
Saviour, requiring His death, choosing Barabbas instead of 
Him, resisting the judge who attempted to defend Him, and 
breaking out into tumults and threats when they saw that he 
wished to release Him; yet, notwithstanding all this, God, the 
most just Judge, decreed that they should ratify and publicly 
confirm all this by their own word before the process against 
them should be concluded, and that as this was a matter so 
grave and weighty, it should be transacted with all possible 
solemnity. Therefore, our Lord Himself being there present 
in His own Person, and all the people of the Jews with their 
leaders and heads, namely, the Chief Priests, Judges, and 
Scribes, being also present, in the public place of the city of 
Jerusalem, the time being about noon, the season the most 
solemn festival of the Pasch, on the day also called the Vespers 
or Preparation (termed by them Parasceve ) 6 of the following 
Sabbath, there being moreover present an innumerable concourse 
of people from all the world—the Governor of the Romans, 
Pontius Pilate, being seated on his seat of judgment, in a loud, 
clear, intelligible voice, made solemn declaration, saying, Ecce 
Rex vester —‘ Behold here your King, your Messias Whom your 
law promised, prophecied, and prefigured. He says that His 
Kingdom is not of this world; see if you will believe Him, 
confess Him, and receive Him. And if any of you have any 
fears of Him that He desires to excite commotion among you, 
and to make Himself a King, as tyrants do, and to usurp by 
violence the kingdom of this world; behold how humiliated 
and punished He is ! Are you content with what has been 
done against Him, or do you persist, notwithstanding, that we 
should proceed further?’ Then the Jews, perceiving that all 
these were but vain and ceremonious words, cried out again, 
Tolle , tolle , crucifige eum —‘Away with this Man, away with 
Him; this is no time for questionings, shorten the trial, have 

6 St. John xix. 14. 

P 



226 


The Sacred Passion. 


done with these delays, hasten to a conclusion, crucify Him at 
once.’ To this Pilate answered, Regem vestrum crucifigam ? 
He said all this to give them more time and opportunity to 
reflect on the answer they should make, and to move them, 
through very shame, to desist from their demands. ‘ Is it your 
King that I am to crucify? Him Who, whether you like it 
or not, is proved by your prophets, and by the tokens con¬ 
tained in your Scriptures, to be your King and Messias ? And 
even if He be not, He at any rate has had the name and 
the semblance of being your King. Do you really desire that, 
in spite of this, I should crucify Him to your dishonour and 
infamy, and that all the world should say that the Romans 
condemned the King of the Jews to so shameful and infamous 
a death?’ All this is contained in the question, Regem vestrum 
crucifigci?n ? 

The Chief Priests, however , 7 whose passions were the 
stronger in proportion to their greater learning, and who as 
being greater men were more free and fearless, without any 
shame or fear of God, cried out, ‘We have no king but Caesar.’ 
They ought to have understood, seeing they were learned, that 
if they were now without a king of their own, and had no king 
but Caesar, then the time had arrived in which, according to 
the Scriptures, the promised King Messias must be among them. 
But blind and carried away by passion as they were, they had 
no desire to receive the King Whom God had sent to give 
them eternal liberty, and they condemned themselves of their 
own free will, and out of their own mouth, to perpetual servi¬ 
tude under strange kings. 

At this time, s the Governor being on his seat ready to 
pronounce the sentence, a message came to him from his wife, 
in which she begged him very earnestly not to venture to 
condemn that just Man; and the reason she gave was that she 
had suffered many things on account of this matter in visions 
which she had had that day, and which had left her full of 
terror and grief. What it was that she saw, and whether these 
visions were from the work of the good or the evil spirit, the 
7 St. John xix. 15. 8 St. Matt, xxvii. 19. 



Pilate’s Wife. 


227 


Evangelist does not tell us. Many of the holy Fathers affirm 
that God our Lord sent them to her to give testimony to the 
innocence of our Saviour, and to help and strengthen the good 
will of the Judge by means of the warning given him by his 
wife, to whom it was revealed that that Man was holy and just 
(and even perchance, likewise, that He was the Son of God), 
and who was also shown the great calamities which were des¬ 
tined to come upon that city and its inhabitants, on account of 
the envy and hatred with which they were requiring His death. 
And therefore she began to fear lest the chastisement of the 
accusers might also fall in large measure upon her husband, 
who was the Judge. Therefore she said to him, Nihil tibi et 
justo illi, multa enim passci sum hodie per visum propter eum — 
1 1 beg of thee and I warn thee to have no part in the condem¬ 
nation and death of this just Man, for I would have thee know 
that the anguish and pains which I have suffered on account 
of Him have been great, through things which I have seen, 
and which have been shown to me in visions.’ 

Our Saviour did not will that this vision should be sent to 
the Governor himself, because, either he would not believe it 
and would look on it as a vain dream, or he would not publish 
it or speak of it, and if he did the people would not believe it, 
because, knowing that he was inclined to favour our Saviour, 
they might say that he was feigning revelations in order to set 
Him free. Therefore, the good wife had the vision and suffered 
much on account of it, and entirely believed in it, and had no 
heart to be silent respecting it. And so, filled with fear and 
consternation, she sent the message to her husband, he being 
already on the judgment seat, at the most critical moment of 
the whole business, and endeavoured to persuade him not to 
pronounce sentence, inspiring him with fear as to what he might 
have to suffer for this cause, and also moving him to compassion 
for what she had suffered. Pilate must have felt forced to 
consider the message carefully, and to ask many questions and 
give many answers concerning it, and so the people would 
quickly obtain knowledge of it, and the news would spread 
abroad throughout the city as to what the wife of the Governor 
p 2 



228 


The Sacred Passion. 


had seen in favour of our Saviour. And this was likewise an 
illustrious testimony of His innocence, and a means whereby to 
cast suspicion on those who abhorred and accused Him. 

Some writers are of opinion that it was the devil who 
terrified the Governor’s wife with these visions, in order thereby 
to prevent our Saviour from being put to death in this way, 
which he already foresaw would occasion the complete over¬ 
throw of his kingdom. But how can one think that the devil 
would, on the one hand, endeavour by terrifying the wife of 
Pilate with visions to hinder the death of our Saviour, and on 
the other hand, that he would at the same time incite the Jews 
to demand it with so much fury and persistence? For, if the 
devil had really wished to put a stop to the Passion of our 
Lord and prevent Plis death, what other way or means would 
have been more brief or more easy than that of moving the 
souls of the Pontiffs and priests to compassion, seeing he was 
their lord and master ? For, if they had desisted from their 
accusation, the affair with the Governor would at once have 
been concluded. Flowever, even if it were so, that these 
visions were the work of the evil spirit, still they tended very 
much to the glory and honour of Christ our Lord. For, in 
such wise was He condemned, that all witnessed to His 
innocence and justice, not only men, the judge who sentenced 
Him, and his wife who sent him the message, and the centurion 
and soldiers who crucified Him, but also the elements, which 
were convulsed at His death, all, even to the very devils of hell 
themselves, if it be true that it was they who put those things 
into the head of Pilate’s wife. 

The priests alone, and the people inspired by them, 
persevered in their hardness and obstinacy. 9 And Pilate, 
when he saw that his efforts were of no avail, but that rather 
the tumult rose higher and higher, called for water and washed 
his hands before all the people. Fie did this, either to make 
them reflect and consider more what they were requiring and 
what responsibility they were taking upon themselves, or else in 
conformity to the custom in use among the Jews themselves, 
9 St. Matt, xxvii. 24. 



Pilate washing his Hands. 


229 


when they wished to clear themselves from taking part in any 
matter, or to protest their innocence of any crime, and more 
particularly, the shedding of blood or the death of any man , 10 
according to what was written in their law. M01 cover, that he 
might declare himself more openly, and that they might not be 
ignorant of what he meant by that ceremony, he said to them , 11 
‘ I am innocent. I do not desire to take upon myself the death 
of this just Man, look you to it, for it will fall upon you, and 
all that will’ be done will be on your shoulders.’ This was the 
last testimony which Pilate gave in the cause of our Saviour, 
thus by a public and solemn ceremony absolving I-Iim and 
declaring I-Iim to be a just Man, before he condemned Him; 
and thus, whilst he was about to condemn Him, he declared 
His justice and innocence. Here, verily, is a new and unheard 
of manner of delivering judgment! For other judges say that 
it is necessary they should condemn, because the issue of the 
trial makes it incumbent on them to do so. But Pilate, sitting 
in his seat of judgment —-pro tribunali —washes his hands and 
says that he ought to absolve and not to condemn, and yet, 
notwithstanding, he condemns. He lies, therefore, when he 
says that he is innocent and without blame in condemning 
this just Man to death. It is not possible that the judge can be 
innocent who pronounces sentence against a man whom he 
knows, and whom the trial itself proves, not to deserve it. 

O unjust and iniquitous Judge, who judged against his own 
judgment and condemned against his own will, and decided 
what he did not judge right, and commanded that what he did 
not desire should be carried into execution ! Deceitful and 
doublefaced man, who wished to keep terms with God and 
with the world, and to conceal the ambition and human fear 
which he felt within his heart by an outward washing of his 
hands ! O Pilate ! would to God that thou wert the only judge 
who feared Caesar more than God; that thou wert the only 
man who ever attended to the vociferations and tumult of the 
people rather than to justice and truth, the only one who ever 
wished to conceal his evil life and his wicked deeds beneath 
10 Deut. xxi. 6. 11 St. Matt, xxvii. 24. 



2 30 


The Sacred Passion. 


good appearances. But little avails it to wash the hands ajnd 
to gloss evil deeds over with good words, since we have to be 
judged by our Lord, Who esteems words so little, and Who 
has said that He must judge by deeds alone. 

But, in fine, Pilate desired to wash his hands from this 
blood of our Redeemer, and the Jews, like bloodthirsty beasts, 
demanded that it should fall upon their own heads. So when 
he washed his hands, and said—‘I am innocent and have 
nothing to do with the blood of this just Man,’ all the people 
cried out 12 —‘ His blood be upon us and upon our children and 
descendants.’ As if they had said that no blame whatever was 
to be attached to him on account of that death, and that if he 
haxl any they must take it on themselves, and bind themselves 
and their children in their name to pay the penalty of it. And 
the Jewish people having consented with so much publicity 
and solemnity, and after so many appeals made to them, to 
receive the penalty which the most unjust death of our Saviour 
merited, and having named by their own mouth the judge by 
whom the sentence was to be executed, that is to say, the 
Roman Emperor, since they desired no other king than he, 
the process was finished against them no less than against our 
Saviour. And so they remained subject to the penalty which 
they had merited, and which they afterwards paid, their Temple 
and State having been destroyed by the Roman Emperors. 
And they who, until then, had been as trees planted in the 
heritage of the Lord, chose for their king a thorn or briar, for 
such indeed was the heathen Emperor, and fire came out of 
him (as was written ) 13 and devoured them all. And because 
(as Isaias says ) 14 ‘they cast away the waters of Siloe that go 
with silence,’ that is to say, the Empire of Christ, which is 
quiet and humble, and chose the Roman Emperor, who was 
like to a great and mighty river, God brought upon them 
many and terrible floods (that is to say, the armies of the 
Romans), which destroyed and overwhelmed them, so that 
they remained scattered, abject, and infamous, and subject to 
strangers, without retaining throughout the whole earth a hand’s 
12 St. Matt, xxvii. 25. 13 Judges ix. 15. 14 viii. 6. 



Pilates Sentence. 


231 


breadth of jurisdiction, since in our Saviour’s cause they made 
so bad use of it. 

There remaining now no other solemnity or ceremony for 
Pilate to perform, he declared the matter to be at an end. And 
wishing to satisfy the people 15 more than truth and his own 
conscience, he decreed that the sentence which they had 
required ought to be executed, although they had not proved 
it nor given good reason for it, and he pronounced the sentence 
— 4 that it was right to condemn, and that he condemned, Jesus 
of Nazareth to be taken along the public streets, preceded by a 
crier proclaiming His crime, to the place where malefactors and 
criminals were usually executed, and that there, despoiled of all 
His raiment, He should be nailed upon a cross with nails in 
His Feet and Hands, and that being thus nailed, He should 
hang there until He was dead, and this considering that He 
had been accused as a blasphemer and seditious person, and 
as having stirred up the people, calling Himself King of the 
Jews.’ 

The report immediately ran through all the city of the 
decision at which the Governor had arrived, and the sentence 
which he had pronounced, and how they were now dragging 
away Jesus the Nazarene to be crucified; Him Who had been 
regarded as a great saint, a great preacher, and a great prophet, 
Who had healed the sick, cured those possessed of devils, and 
raised the dead. The confusion and tumult which reigned 
throughout Jerusalem, who shall describe? and the various 
opinions which were given respecting this business ? Or who 
shall tell of the sorrow and dismay which filled the hearts of 
the disciples and of those who loved our Saviour ? and on the 
other hand, the exultation of His enemies and accusers who 
had been so successful in their purpose, and had obtained so 
great a victory ? All this must have afflicted the Heart of our 
Saviour with that pain which any one feels to see himself thus 
conquered by his enemies in spite of right and justice. His 
grief was so great, indeed, that the Holy Spirit would not be 
silent respecting it by the mouth of the Prophets, and therefore 
15 St. Mark xv. 15. 



232 


The Sacred Passion. 


one of them says 16 —‘My enemies rejoiced against Me, and 
came together; scourges were gathered against Me, and I 
knew not.’ 

On the other hand, it appears that for this cause alone He 
entreated of His Eternal Father the resurrection of His body . 17 
‘Enlighten,’ He says, ‘My eyes that I never sleep in death, lest 
at any time My enemy say, I have prevailed against Him. 
They that trouble Me will rejoice when I am moved, but I 
trust in Thy mercy.’ And because this would be the occasion 
of much trouble to human hearts, our Saviour warned His 
Apostles specially of it on the night before, animating them 
with the hope of His resurrection, and saying to them 18 — 
‘ Amen, Amen, I say to you that you shall lament and weep, 
but the world shall rejoice, and you shall be made sorrowful, 
but I will come to see you again, and your heart shall rejoice 
and be glad, and your joy no man will be able to take from 
you.’ 

16 Psalm xxxiv. 15. 17 Ibid. xii. 4—6. 

18 St. John xvi. 20. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 


Our Saviour is led to be crucified with the Cross on 
His shoidders. 

The sentence upon our Saviour having been pronounced by 
the Governor, it was notified to Him by the officials, and He 
accepted it through obedience to His Father, with the same 
humility and charity as He had accepted it the first moment 
that it was conceived, saying what had been written in the 
Psalm , 1 Deus metis volui , et legem tucim in medio cordis mei — 

‘I have desired it, O My God,. and Thy law in the midst of 
My Heart.’ 

In this Psalm, in the Person of our Saviour it is said— 
Sacrificium et oblationem noluisti , aures autem perfecisti mihi (or 
as St. Paul quotes it 2 — Corpus autem aptasti mihi); Holocauto- 
mata pro peccato non postulasii , tunc dixi: Ecce venio , in capite 
libri scriptum est de me , ut facerem voluntatem tuam: Deus mens 
volui , et legem tuam in medio cordis mei. That is —* Offerings 
and sacrifices Thou didst not desire, and therefore Thou gavest 
Me this body, that I might offer to Thee in it an agreeable 
sacrifice. The burnt offerings and sacrifices of those who are 
wont to offer them for sin Thou didst not desire nor require;. 
then I said, Now I come in due season. In the beginning of 
the book it is written of Me that I should be a great fulfiller of 
Thy will; therefore I desire it so, My God, and Thy com¬ 
mandment (although it should be to die) I hold in the midst 
of My Pleart.’ This is what is written in the Psalm, and it 
cannot but be doubted but that in that hour the Heart of our 
Saviour was filled with very fervent affections of profound 
obedience and most ardent charity towards God and towards 

2 . Heb. x. 5-7. 


xxxix. 9. 


2 34 


The Sacred Passion. 


man, and we may believe that He would say—‘For this, 
Father, I was bom, and for this I came into the world : not to 
seek My own pleasure and glory, but Thine, and the salvation 
of the souls which Thou hast commended to Me. Mankind 
were the criminals, the accused, and those who were to be 
condemned in Thy most just tribunal, and I, in order to 
liberate them from the just and rigorous sentence which would 
have been pronounced upon them, have presented Myself as a 
criminal and culpable in their tribunal, which is an unjust one, 
to be condemned before it as I am. Receive, Eternal Father, 
this sentence in exchange for that which Thou wouldst have 
had to give against them, and since I was condemned by them, 
albeit I am innocent and just, let them be set free and 
absolved through Me, although they are culpable and sinners.’ 

Pilate, then, having brought to an end all that belonged to 
his office, retired within his house, giving place to the execu¬ 
tioners to carry out the sentence. The priests gave orders that 
it should be published throughout the whole city, and that 
information should be given to the neighbours and strangers 
who had come to celebrate the Pasch, that the Governor, 
having been convinced, according to information he had 
received, of the crimes and impostures of this Man, had con¬ 
demned Him to be crucified with other two thieves. In 
consequence of these measures the concourse of people who 
flocked to the house of the Governor would be extraordinarily 
great, all being desirous to be witnesses of so remarkable an 
event. The Judge having already departed, the officers took 
possession of the condemned- criminal. This is what the 
Evangelist signifies when he says , 3 Susceperunt autem Jesum — 
‘they took Jesus;’ that is, those who were to carry out the 
sentence took Him into their power, according to what is 
written in the Psalm , 4 Susceperunt me sicut leo paratus ad 
prcedam —‘ They took Me as a lion ready for the prey.’ 

The first thing which they did 5 was to take off the cloak 
or purple vestment with which they had clad Him in scorn, 
renewing, meanwhile, their insults and rudeness, and once 
3 St. John xix. 16. 4 xvi. 12. 5 St. Matt, xxvii. 31. 



The Robe of Scorn. 


235 


more uncovering to men that virginal body, all bloody and 
scored with many wounds. This purple garment in which our 
Lord was mocked, reddened as it was with His blood, was left 
to us by Him as a rich inheritance; and for this cause He 
desired to be divested of it, that we might clothe ourselves 
with it, and honour and prize it , 6 desiring to suffer insults, false 
charges, and outrages, and to be looked upon and considered 
as fools, so as in some way to resemble and imitate our Creator 
and our Lord Jesus Christ. For this is to array ourselves in 
His garment and livery, in which He clothed Himself for our 
greater spiritual profit, giving us an example that in all things 
possible to us we should with the aid of the divine grace 
imitate and follow Him Who wills to be the path which leads 
men to life eternal. 

The Evangelist does not say that they took off the crown of 
thorns, and therefore it appears that it remained upon His head, 
that He might go crowned as an acceptable victim to the altar 
of the Cross. It was not reason that they should uncrown Him 
Who was King eternal and of all worlds. And if they took off 
the purple therewith to clothe and honour His mystical body, 
the crown ought to have remained fixed on Him, since He was 
the Head of this body. 

After having taken off the purple robe , 7 they put His own 
garments once more upon Him, thereby to do Him greater dis¬ 
honour, and that He might be more readily recognized by those 
garments when He was being taken to execution. The purple 
garment could be easily removed because, as we said above, it 
was fashioned like a mantle open in front, but the seamless 
tunic, which was closed up, and which it was therefore necessary 
to put over the head, who shall say with how little pity and how 
much cruelty the executioners put it on Him? For the garment 
would stick upon the crown of thorns, and when, by pulling it 
over Him they endeavoured to get it into its place they would 
renew His sufferings most acutely, for the thorns which were 
fastened in His head would be moved, and others would be 
forced into it and pierce it. All this must have been done in 
6 S. P. Ignat. Exam. c. iv. sec. 44. 7 St. Mark xv. 22. 



236 


The Sacred Passion. 


the court of the praetorium, where the soldiers had mocked at 
our Saviour, and at the gate was placed the cross, of large size 
and height, as was meet for one of so great stature Who was 
about to be placed upon it, and as He Himself says , 8 to be 
‘ lifted up from the earth.’ 

And although they had given liberty to Barabbas , 9 who was 
a thief, a homicide, and a seditious man, there still remained in 
prison two thieves who had been condemned to death, and it 
was resolved that they should be crucified in company with our 
Saviour. The Jews most likely asked this favour, to which the 
Governor would be glad to consent, first, that this act of justice 
might be performed with greater solemnity, and that a notable 
spectacle might be presented to the crowds who had gathered 
together, secondly, for the greater infamy and dishonour of 
our Saviour, and also the better to dissemble and hide the 
malice and passion with which they had proceeded in His 
cause, making it one with that of the thieves, and desiring that 
all should think and persuade themselves that He also had 
been condemned with the same justice as the others. But God 
made use of their detestable intentions to render more illustrious 
the example of humility given by His Son, and, as St. Mark 
says , 10 in order that the prophecy of Isaias might be fulfilled 
which says, Et cum sceleratis refiutatus est —‘And He was 
reckoned with the wicked.’ Most likely the public prison 
would adjoin the dwelling of the Governor, and they would 
take these thieves from the place where they were to the court 
of the praetorium, where our Lord was waiting for them. He 
looked on them and received them with the same tranquillity 
and kindness with which He always received sinners, and more 
especially these who were destined to be the companions of 
His dishonour and of His torments. They would perchance 
begin at once to blaspheme Him through impatience at their 
own punishment and disdain and contempt of our Lord, seeing 
that it was only in order to increase His dishonour that their 
punishment was thus inflicted before the time, and that they 
had been brought out on so solemn a day in His company. 

8 St. John xii. 32. 9 St. Luke xxiii. 25. 10 Ibid. xv. 28. 



Calvary. 


2 37 


All these preparations were made under the eyes of the 
Blessed Virgin, who was aware very distinctly of everything that 
took place, and heard the tumult and the cries of the people who 
had gathered together, and saw everything which could be seen 
from a convenient place somewhat apart. The holy women 
who w.ere with her, seeing the goodwill which Pilate had shown, 
the resistance he had made to the Chief Priests and the people, 
and the means he had taken to set our Lord at liberty, had 
conceived hopes of a better result. But when they saw the 
Judge yield, and the sentence given and published, and that it 
was about to be executed, what language can express the grief 
of their hearts, and the tears which overflowed their eyes ? But 
the most holy Virgin, who knew better than they what was about 
to take place, and was well prepared for this bitter and terrible 
moment, neither did nor said anything which was not full of the 
greatest magnanimity and modesty, the Holy Spirit strengthen¬ 
ing her and increasing her powers in proportion as the occasion 
required. And pierced though she was by the most bitter grief, 
nevertheless, being prevented by divine grace and taught by God, 
Who guided her to the holy mountain to share more closely in 
the outrages and torments of her Son, she determined to place 
herself at a spot whence she could see and be seen by Him as 
He passed, and with marvellous courage and fortitude she went 
forward with her holy companions and reached the place which 
she desired. 

There was outside the city a little hill, lying between the 
northern and western sides of Mount Sion, on the left hand on 
coming out of the gate named Judiciaria, which is on the 
western side of the city. This place was set apart for the 
execution of justice on criminals, and on that account it was 
outside the city, that the inhabitants might not be horrified by 
the sight of the dead bodies of the malefactors. But it was not 
very far off , 11 so that the people might, without much trouble, 
be present at the execution of malefactors, which for the sake 
of example and of common warning is usually provided for in 
cities. Those who have taken measurements in the Holy Land 
11 St. John xix. 20. 



238 


The Sacred Passion. 


and have given us an account of it, say 12 that this hill is five 
hundred paces from the city, and one thousand three hundred 
and twenty one from the house of Pilate. The place is called 
in Hebrew Golgotha , which has the same signification that locus 
Calvarice has in Latin, and in our language the place of skulls, 
which for shortness sake is commonly called Calvary. It is so 
called either because malefactors were beheaded there, and that 
generally speaking their heads were not buried ; or because the 
bodies of the criminals remained there until consumed by time 
and there was nothing left but the bones ; and for one cause or 
the other the place was full of skulls. 

It is not meet to pass over in silence, that it was a tradi¬ 
tion of the Hebrews, and is an opinion received by learned 
authors and holy doctors , 13 that the body of the first man and 
father of us all, Adam, was interred on that spot and that his 
skull was there, from which circumstance the hill took its name, 
and was called Golgotha , or the place of a skull. If it were so 
(which all do not admit), it was not without a mysterious and 
special providence of God, that the second Adam came to die 
where the first was interred, and that the new beginning of life 
was given on the very spot where was the body of him who 
was the origin of our death ; and the Blood of the Son of God 
fell upon the head of him, who, being head of the human race, 
communicated to all his descendants the sin which was to be 
washed out by this Blood. However this may be, the place 
was looked upon as infamous and unclean by the Jews, and as 
abominable by all, and on this spot they therefore determined 
to crucify our Saviour, punishing Him as a malefactor in the 
company of the others, making Him equal in all things with 
them, in order that His dishonour might be greater, and so 
they led Him along the public and more frequented streets to 
this self same place of execution, set apart for other malefactors. 

12 Adricom. Theatr. Terr. Sanctce Descript. Jer. 118. 

13 Orig. Tract. 33 in Matt. ; Cyprian, Serm. de Resur. ; Athan. Serm.. 
de Pas. et Cruc.; Ambrose, lib. 10 in Luc.; Basil, in c. 5 Isaice ; Epiphan. 
Hcer. 46.; Chrys. Homil. 84 in Joan.; August. Serm. 71 De Temp, et 
lib. 16 De Civit. c. 31. 



Taking up the Cross. 


239 


In this manner was accomplished, as St. Paul states , 14 that 
which was commanded in Leviticus, that the blood of those 
beasts who were sacrificed for sin should be brought into the 
tabernacle and sanctuary, and that their bodies should be burnt 
outside the camp. On which account, Jesus our Saviour, to sanc¬ 
tify the people, suffered likewise outside the gate of the city. 

Etediixerimteum 16 -—and all these things being duly prepared, 
they led Him forth to be crucified, with all the solemnities 
observed in the case of other criminals, and, indeed, still greater 
in this case, on account of the particular circumstance's contained 
in it. The concourse of people in the streets was extraordinary, 
for our Lord was well known throughout all the country, and on 
account of the Pasch Jerusalem was full of strangers. All spoke 
of the matter, because the trial had been conducted with so 
much violence and publicity, and various opinions were given, 
some excusing and others condemning the Person of our 
Saviour, and espousing the opinion of their Scribes and High 
Priests. The confluence of the people would be great, coming 
and going to and from the Governor’s house, and they would 
spread the rumour that our Saviour was now just about to 
be brought forth, all desiring to be the first to behold Him 
come out, in a condition, in their opinion, so miserable. 

Our Lord then came forth from the house of the Governor, 
and a great crowd of people with Him. He came forth in the 
company of the executioners and officers, who dragged Him 
along by a rope fastened round His neck, and He was received 
by the people gathered together at the gate and in the court, 
with all the noise and murmurs common on such occasions, 
every one gazing curiously at His face, and taking note of His 
aspect and appearance, which was that of One disfigured with 
blows, and blood, and spitting, so that it must have struck them 
very much, and He was so changed that those who had known 
and conversed with Him hardly recognized Him. 

The cross on which He was to be placed was ready pre¬ 
pared outside the door of Pilate’s house, at a distance of about 
six and twenty paces, which would be a convenient space for 
14 Heb. xiii. 11. 15 St. John xix. 16. 



240 


The Sacred Passion. 


putting the procession in order. It is said that the cross was 
fifteen feet in height, and the beam which traversed it eight 
feet, the girth of it being in proportion to its size, and to what 
was requisite in order to bear a body of the stature of our 
Lord. This great and lofty cross would be the first thing which 
our Lord saw when He came forth out of the door, and in it 
He recognized the weapon of His victory, the sceptre of His 
Kingdom, the tribunal of His clemency, and the key with 
which He would open the gates of heaven. 

As soon as He came near it those barbarous ministers, in 
whom there does not seem to have remained one spark of 
humanity, commanded Him to take it on His shoulders and 
Himself to bear it to the place where He was to be nailed 
against it. Oh, how new a manner of executing a sentence, 
that the criminal should Himself take His cross on His 
shoulders, and that He Who is condemned to death should 
carry the instrument of His death ! When perverse and crime- 
stained men are taken away to their punishment, the sword or 
other instrument by which they are to be deprived of life is 
hidden from them, that they may escape the torment of seeing 
it, and yet they would make Him, Who has bestowed life upon 
us all, gaze upon, embrace, and carry on His shoulders, the 
wood of His death on which He was to be nailed. Being, 
moreover, so large and heavy as it was, even a healthy and 
robust man would hardly have been able to carry it. How 
much less was He able to bear it Who was of so delicate a 
constitution, and was now so weakened and consumed by all 
He had undergone! 

It may indeed be true, as some say, that it was usual to 
make criminals carry the cross on which they were to be 
crucified; and to this custom it seems that the words of our 
Saviour alluded—‘ He that will come after Me, let him take up 
his cross and follow Me.’ For why should He have commanded 
them to take up their cross, unless it had been customary for 
those who were to be crucified to do so ? But even if it were 
so, not only was it great cruelty to make our Saviour carry and 
sustain so great a weight when He could hardly hold Himself 




Bearing the Cross. 


241 


up, but it was also a sign of the greatest contempt. For the 
cross being so infamous and base a thing, and carried only by 
those who were to be placed upon it, there was not in their 
opinion any one more vile and despicable than He, or who 
could or would take it upon himself but He alone. They did 
not consider His weakness nor His weariness and fatigue, for 
they made no account of Him at all; all they thought of was 
to drag Him through the- public streets in the sight of the 
people, humiliated and outraged with so infamous a burden, 
and that He might be known by this sign of bearing the cross 
as the Man Who was to be crucified upon it. Our Lord 
embraced it gladly, seeing and considering the marvels which 
He would work by its means, and took upon His shoulders 
with it the burden of our sins, which He alone could bear, and 
raised on high the sceptre of His empire, as Isaias says , 10 
Factus est principatus super humerum ejus —‘ His Kingdom and 
His Government He bore upon His shoulders.’ E't bajulans 
sibi crucem exivit in eum , qui dicitur Calvarice locum 17 — 1 And 
bearing His Cross, He went forth to the place which is called 
Calvary.’ 

In this manner He began His progress through the 
principal streets of Jerusalem. Before Him went a great 
number of people, and then the ancients and the doctors, the 
Scribes and Pharisees, all rejoicing greatly in the victory which 
they had obtained. The soldiers and men of war followed with 
their arms, for if they had borne them when they were appre¬ 
hending Him, much more would they do so now when they 
were taking Him to be crucified. For they were always fearing 
that His disciples would raise a disturbance amongst the people, 
for which it was well to be prepared, or for anything else which 
might happen. After the guards went the heathen executioners, 
with nails, gimlets, ropes, hammers, and other necessary 
articles. Lastly came the condemned, who were three; the 
thieves first, and after them, as being the most remarkable, our 
Saviour with the Cross upon His shoulders, followed 18 by a 
great multitude of people and of women who bewailed and 

16 ix. 6. 17 'St. John xix. 17. 18 St. Luke xxiii. 27. 

Q 



242 


The Sacred Passion. 


lamented Him. For there were many who wished Him well 
and who were under obligations to Him for the benefits they 
had received from Him. Nor was there wanting on an 
occasion so solemn the voice of the crier, who proclaimed how 
Pilate had commanded justice to be done upon that Man 
because He was a blasphemer against God, a traitor against 
Caesar, and a stirrer up of the people by His impostures and 
lies. In short, they attributed to our Lord such crimes as 
agreed well with the rigorous sentence which was to be 
executed upon Him. The rattling of arms and the cries of 
the officials were loud, as they tried to make room and force 
their way through the people, who pressed obstinately upon 
each other to obtain a closer view of the face of our Saviour, 
rushing along first one street and then another, and endea¬ 
vouring to find shorter ways, so as to see once more One 
Whom they had known in so different a state. In this manner 
Cain, the elder brother, led Abel into the field to deprive him 
of life. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 


Our Saviour meets His most Blessed Mother and arrives 
at Calvary. 

Not the least of the pains of this progress came from the insults 
and abusive language uttered by those who stood looking on in 
the streets and at the windows, because, although the holy 
Evangelists do not speak of it, the mere facts of the case make 
us understand what must have taken place amidst such a crowd. 
For, having heard so many things proclaimed against our Lord, 
and being persuaded that they were well grounded, those who 
had not believed in Him were rejoiced to see the truth declared, 
and those who had believed were ashamed that they had believed 
lies, and both the one and the other revenged themselves with 
their tongues, multiplying insults and reproaches, and launching 
maledictions against Him Who, in their opinion, so well merited 
them. And thus was fulfilled that which so many years before 
had been said by the Prophet: Adversum me loquebantuO qui 
sedebant in porta; et in me psallebant qui bibebant vi?ium — 
‘ They that sat in the gate,’ he says, ‘ spake against Me; and 
they that drank wine made Me their song.’ And many other 
things the Prophet says in this Psalm to the same purpose. 

The weight of the Cross was very great, and the shoulders 
upon which it was laid were wounded and flayed with the 
scourges. As it was so large, He was forced to drag it along 
the streets, and because of the inequality of the stones it was 
constantly jolting against Him and striking Him. These repeated 
blows, and His staggering from side to side, must have caused 
great torture to the body of our Saviour, and must have made 
the thorns pierce still more deeply into His head. All this, and 
1 Psalm lxviii. 13. 

Q 2 


244 


The Sacred Passion. 


the hurry and cruelty of the executioners, was the cause why 
our Saviour, after going a few steps on His way, fell down with 
the Cross upon Him. 

The most holy Virgin had placed herself in a convenient 
position to see her Son, and to go through that meeting which 
would cost her so much grief, certain, at the same time, of the 
divine grace which would be her aid on this occasion, so as 
neither to do nor to say anything unworthy of herself, or of the 
light and knowledge which she had received respecting that 
mystery, and of the conformity which she had with the will of 
God. Nevertheless, what could stem her emotion and her 
grief? And when from afar she saw the weapons and heard 
the voices of those who were lifting Him up after He had fallen, 
and heard the proclamation of the crimes laid to the charge of 
her Son, how could it have been but that a sharp sword of 
bitter grief pierced the heart of the Mother, and that copious 
floods of tears ran from her eyes ? O Virgin blessed above all 
women and afflicted above all ! Wherefore, O Lady, hast thou 
quitted thy beloved solitude and exposed thyself to the throng 
of men so rude and profane ? And if thou wert compelled to 
this through love of thy Son, wherefore didst thou desire to 
give and receive such a blow, adding to His grief by the sight of 
thee, and receiving so terrible a wound thyself by seeing Him ? 

But the Blessed Virgin did not think it contrary to her 
recollection to be present at that sight, wherein was the source . 
of all holiness, nor would her own heart have allowed her not 
to see that work of God, which was destined to be throughout 
her whole life the matter of her contemplation and her incentive 
to love and charity. For as God was doing so great a work as 
this upon the earth, and one in which, more than in any other, 
He displayed the greatness of His wisdom, of His power and 
goodness, and also the greatness of His justice and mercy, and 
of His immense charity, and there being present at this sight so 
many blind and passionate judges, who neither understood nor 
esteemed it, nor felt in regard to it as was meet, the Divine 
Majesty willed that the Blessed Virgin His Mother should not 
fail to be present, seeing that she alone understood it and 



Meeting the Blessed Virgin. 


245 


fathomed it and knew how to esteem it, and no other creature 
could. For every one desires that his works, and especially if 
they are of great worth, should come to light in the presence of 
those who can esteem and understand them. 

Our Lady, then, being in such a place, and within view of 
such a spectacle, what waves and storms must have passed through 
her virginal heart! What tears would stream from her sacred 
eyes ! For if our hearts leap, and if the hairs rise on our head, 
on seeing a stranger led to die, of whom we know nothing, and 
if our hearts fail us to look him in the face, what must have 
been the strength from heaven which the Blessed Virgin had 
to enable her to behold her Son, Who, disfigured and in such 
torment, was going to die so ignominiously upon the Cross? 
Yet still she did behold Him, and beheld Him very close, and 
her Son looked at her who was His Mother, and their eyes 
met, and the hearts of both were pierced with the sorrow and 
anguish of the other, and yet were no less rejoiced to look 
upon one another, and to see the fidelity and love which each 
recognized in the other. They uttered no words, for the hurry 
did not permit it, and if they had had much leisure, their 
sorrow was so great, that it would have choked their throats 
and they could not have found words to utter. But those who 
desire to do so can speak with their eyes and make their hearts 
understand one another, and especially when their eyes are so 
vivid and penetrating as were those of that Son and of that 
Mother. 

For then the Son beheld that rapture and wondering awe 
that filled the soul of His sacred Mother, and which was caused 
by seeing the sublimity of the majesty of God, and because she 
knew so well and believed with such perfect faith in the Person 
of Christ treated now with such indignity. He beheld the 
bitter grief of that virginal heart on seeing before her eyes her 
beloyed Son, worthy of all honour and reverence, subjected to 
■so great dishonour and torment. He beheld the gratitude, so 
humble and so true, with which the Mother thanked her Son 
for that copious and costly redemption which He was bestowing 
upon the whole human race. He beheld her loyal recognition 



246 


The Sacred Passion . 


of that rich and blessed part which fell to her in this redemp¬ 
tion. He saw that will so resigned, so subject and so conformed 
to the will of the Eternal Father in a matter so difficult and so 
repugnant to human nature. That most loving Son saw, in the 
last place, the tears and grief and heartbreaking of Has Mother, 
which sprang from love and pity for His sufferings. And our 
Saviour being encompassed by so many cruel enemies, who, 
as it is written , 2 besieged Him like great bulls and made assault 
against Him like a lion ravening and roaring, and looking on 
one hand and on the other , 3 and seeing that there was no one 
that would help Him nor rise in His defence, could not but be 
consoled in finding so near Him one who knew Him better 
than any other creature, and who knew how to estimate the 
work He had done and to be grateful for the love which had 
brought Him to such a pass, and had constrained Him to do 
battle with His enemies in so great straits. 

On the other hand, the Mother beholding her Son exposed 
to so great outrages and suffering such grief, recognized in Him 
the burning love for God and men which inflamed His breast; 
the will which was in such entire conformity with and so 
wholly subject to the commandment of His Eternal Father; 
the courage and joyfulness of heart with which He went to 
suffer for men, and the redemption of the human race, the 
renovation of the world, the abundance of grace and the 
inestimable rewards of glory and eternal life, which were to 
result from the temporal death of her Son. As she beheld all 
this, her knowledge of the work He was performing, and of the 
enterprise He had undertaken, must have swollen to such a 
height as not to let her rest without going after Him to the 
holy mountain, to be present at the sacrifice which He, the 
true High Priest, was about to offer, in order to appease the 
anger of God and to reconcile all mankind to Him. In this 
manner, then, our Saviour walked on, His body bent with the 
weight of the Cross, His eyes fastened, and as it were blinded 
with tears and blood, His footsteps slow and feeble, his knees 
trembling, following His two companions in punishment, 

2 Psalm xxi. 13. 3 Ibid. cxli. 5. 



Simon of Cyrene . 


247 


although for so different a cause, amidst the jeers and insults 
of the Jews, and the pushing and maltreatment of the execu¬ 
tioners, and the tears and bewailings of the devout and pious 
women. Having carried His Cross for His greater disgrace 
through all the public streets of the city, it is said that on 
issuing from it at the gate which is called Judiciaria, our 
Saviour fell a second time, the strength required for going any 
further with such a burthen having altogether failed Him. 
Then they thought to give Him some relief in that ascent to 
Calvary , 4 and looked about for some one to take His Cross 
and carry it to its place. Not that they did this from com¬ 
passion (for they did not feel any), but because they saw that 
they could not proceed any further, for He could now barely 
■walk, falling continually under His burthen, and they could not 
rest quiet until they saw the sentence executed, for they were 
even fearing something new to hinder it, either on the part of 
the judge or of the crowd, or, perhaps, because our Saviour was 
now so spent and exhausted, they had reason to fear that He 
might not last out long enough for them to fasten Him, as was 
their desire, to the Cross. For this cause, then, they sought 
for some one to carry it, and as the burthen was so disgraceful 
and the carrying of it a sign that the bearer was about to be 
crucified, there was no one to be found who was willing to aid 
our Saviour in this. 

Just at this time, however, they found ready to their hands 
a man who was called Simon , 5 a native of Cyrene, a renowned 
and principal city in Africa. He was father of Alexander 6 and 
Rufus, who must have been, at the time St. Mark wrote, good 
and well known Christians, and as such the Evangelist names 
them in order through them to make known their father. Simon 
was coming 7 from his work, or from his villa or farm, when they 
met him. Then they laid hold of him and hired him for the 
office, and paying him for his work, made him carry the Cross s 
and follow our Saviour closely. In this manner, whilst He was 
relieved of the weight, the dishonour was still the same, the 

4 St. Matt, xxvii. 32. 5 Ibid. 6 St. Mark xv. 21. 

7 St. Luke, xxiii. 26. 8 Ibid. 



248 


The Sacred Passion. 


Cross being carried so closely after Him that all would perceive 
it was intended for Him. But Simon was in truth a man 
greatly blessed, seeing he was hired to carry so glorious a 
burden, and his reward was doubtless very great, because 
whilst embracing the Cross he was made to know its virtue and 
excellency, and that of our Saviour Who was destined to die 
upon it, and so he obtained salvation and eternal life by means 
of it! 

Whilst this was being arranged, and the Cyrenian was 
being laden with the Cross, our Saviour stopped awhile, and, as 
we are told by tradition, seated Himself upon a stone which is 
shown to pilgrims at the present day. This was a good occa¬ 
sion for a pious woman called Veronica, whom some think was 
the same woman who was cured by our Saviour 9 of an issue of 
blood, and who now, seeing His face so disfigured with blood 
mingled with sweat, drew near without any one hindering her, 
and with the utmost compassion and reverence began to wipe 
it with a white linen handkerchief doubled in three folds, 
which she held; and on each of the three folds there remained 
impressed by a special miracle the image of the divine face of 
our Saviour, Who bestowed upon her this gift in return for the 
service she had done Him, leaving us all thereby a pledge that 
He will impress His face and His presence upon our souls if 
we meditate upon His Cross, and with love and devotion 
associate ourselves in His sorrows. This history of the woman 
Veronica is regarded as a tradition worthy of faith, and one of 
these impressions is kept and shown at Rome with great vene¬ 
ration; another in Spain at the city of Jaen; and the third, it 
is said, is at Jerusalem. 

Some think that this devout woman came to wipe the face 
of our Saviour before He came out of the city, and that the 
place where she did so is shown to this day; but there is little 
or no certainty as to this matter. What the holy Evangelist 
says is, that whilst He was going to Calvary our Saviour did 
not cease to teach, console, exhort, and perform all the offices 
of His ministry. For some good women, who did not, 
9 St. Matt. ix. 20. 



The Daughters of Jerusalem. 


249 


however, belong to these who had followed our Saviour from 
Galilee , 10 and who remained in the company of the Blessed 
Virgin, but some other good women living near Jerusalem, 
moved by the natural compassion entertained by women for 
any calamity of others, wept bitterly at seeing Christ our Lord 
Whom they had beheld preaching, performing so many 
miracles, and held in so great reputation, now reduced to so 
low and miserable a condition as to be taken away publicly to 
be crucified. But when our Lord saw them shedding their 
tears He took notice of it, not allowing to weep for Him those 
who had so much cause to weep for themselves. For to bewail 
the death of our Lord is a holy and pious thing when it springs 
from love and compassion, and especially if at the same time 
we bewail our sins, which were the cause of that death. 
Nevertheless, as our Saviour saw how those good women were 
lamenting over Him as an unfortunate and miserable person, 
who, without being able to defend himself, was being violently 
taken to be crucified; when He saw, moreover, how ignorant 
they were of the calamities which were to fall upon themselves, 
He warned them respecting those future evils, and undeceived 
them in respect to Himself, saying, ‘Daughters of Jerusalem’— 
for so He called the inhabitants and those living near the city 
—‘weep not for Me as for an unfortunate man who is suffering 
for his crimes and against his will, but weep for yourselves 
and for your children. For that which you think of Me, that I 
am miserable and unfortunate in that I die at the hands of My 
enemies, this same thing is to come to pass for you and for 
them. For if I die it is of My own will, and not through any 
fault, but through obedience to My Father, and for the good of 
the whole world, and to rise again very shortly, and to be 
exalted in glory and honour above all glory and honour. But 
upon you will very soon come days of such trouble and 
anguish that those will esteem themselves happy who have not 
borne children, that so they may not see them suffer from the 
calamity which will come upon you. Which calamity will be so 
great that men will feel it better to die than endure such, and, 
10 St. Matt, xxvii. 55. 



250 


The Sacred Passion. 


like men who desire death and cannot obtain it, they will call 
upon the mountains to come and fall upon them, and on the 
hills to bury them alive, so that even by a miserable death they 
may be freed from evils so tremendous.’ 

Quia si in viridi ligno hcec faciunt , in arido quid fiet? —‘For 
if they do these things in the green wood, what shall be done 
in the dry?’ Our Saviour taught them to learn from His 
Passion the fear of God and of His justice, and compared 
Himself to a green and fruitful tree and them to a dry and 
withered stock which was ready for the fire, and He reasoned 
thus—‘ If Divine Justice has not pardoned Me Who am 
innocent, and for the sins of others makes Me suffer so great 
evils, how can you expect it to forbear with you for your many 
and great sins of your own without visiting them with most 
rigorous chastisement? If the divine anger has burnt up 
the green tree as you see, after what manner do you think it 
will be kindled in you who for your sins are as meet for 
punishment as dry wood is for the fire ?’ And thus they arrived 
at the mount which they called Golgotha, and which we call 
Calvary; the place in which malefactors suffered and in which, 
as says the Prophet , 11 Rex ?ioster Deus ante soecula operatus est 
salutem in medio terrce —‘ God is our King for ever, He hath 
wrought salvation in the middle of the earth.’ 


31 Psalm Ixxiii. 12. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 


Some doubts respecting this progress to Calvary explained. 

It will not be inopportune to refer in this place to the letter 
which Adrichomius has written respecting this progress in his 
work entitled Theatre of the Holy Land , and his words are as 
follows— 

‘From the palace of Pilate to the place where the Cross 
was fixed in a rock is one thousand three hundred and twenty 
one paces, or according to another computation, three thousand 
three hundred and three feet. Our Saviour beginning His 
progress from the palace of Pilate, at the distance of twenty 
and six paces, or sixty and five feet, reached the place where 
the Cross was placed upon His shoulders. From thence, dragging 
His cross for eighty paces, or two hundred feet, He reached 
the place where, according to tradition, He fell the first time 
with the Cross. Distant from there some sixty paces and three 
feet, or one hundred and fifty and three feet, is the place where 
the Blessed Virgin, with the Apostle St. John, met her Son. 
And distant from there seventy one paces one foot and a half, or 
a hundred and seventy nine feet, He reached a place where three 
roads meet, where Simon the Cyrenian was made to carry the 
cross. From thence a hundred and ninty one paces and half 
a foot, or four hundred and seventy eight feet further on, He 
was met by Veronica. From thence to the gate of the city 
which was called Judiciaria is three hundred and thirty six 
paces and two feet, or eight hundred and forty two feet, where 
He fell a second time with the Cross. From thence there is a 
gradual rise up a stony track towards the north, and proceeding 
three hundred and forty eight paces and two feet, or eight 
hundred and seventy two feet, the place is reached where He 



252 


The Sacred Passion. 


spoke to the weeping women. Going on a hundred and sixty- 
one paces one foot and a half, or four hundred and four feet, He 
arrived at the brow of Calvary, where He fell for the last time. 
Eighteen paces, or forty five feet from there, is the place where 
the executioners unclothed Him and gave Him to drink of 
wine mingled with myrrh and gall. Twelve paces, or thirty 
feet still further, is the place where He was nailed upon the 
Cross. And finally, at fourteen paces, or thirty five feet 
distance, is the place where the Cross was raised and fixed.’ 

This the above named author states, from which we may 
perceive with how much piety he travelled along this road, 
since he has given such a minute account of every step of it; 
and the knowledge of how many paces more or less it was 
divided into, will aid us in our meditation, and enable us to 
form a better idea of the place where all these events 
happened. 

Only there occurs one difficulty in connection with what 
this writer says, because, according to his account, Simon the 
Cyrenian was laden with the Cross within the city, and at a 
distance of five hundred and twenty seven paces from the Porta 
Judiciaria, but if it were so, how can it be made to agree with 
what he says later on, that when our Saviour arrived at this 
gate He fell a second time with the Cross ? In order to ascer¬ 
tain what is most probable and likely as to this point, it is 
necessary in the first place to satisfy another doubt—namely, 
as to the manner in which Simon aided our Saviour to carry 
the Cross. Many ancient and modem painters agree in repre¬ 
senting our Saviour as remaining with His Cross upon His 
shoulder, and Simon helping Him to carry it only by raising the 
end of it so that it should not drag along the ground; and 
perhaps they found this view on what St. Luke says 1 —Et 
imposuerunt illi crucem portare post 'Jesum. If this were so, it 
may very well have been that after the Cyrenian was hired, our 
Saviour should have fallen twice again beneath the Cross; 
because, in tmth, the aid given to Him was very slight, and in 
. a certain way it even added to the burthen, by throwing all the 

1 xxiii. 26. 



Simon carrying the Cross. 


253 


weight of the Cross upon the shoulders of our Saviour. But if we 
carefully examine the text of the Evangelists, we shall consider 
more probable what is said by many of the Saints, that the Cross 
was taken from our Saviour altogether, and put on Simon, for 
St. Matthew says , 2 and St. Mark , 3 that they hired him not to 
help to carry, but himself to carry the Cross— Hunc angariave- 
runt ut tolleret crucem ejus. The words of St. Luke convey the 
same meaning if they are examined into— Et imposuerunt illi 
cnice??i portcire , for what he afterwards says, post Jestim, was to 
give us to understand that he did not go either before our 
Saviour or at a distance from Him, but behind and close to 
Him. And if painters have understood and represented this 
in any other manner, it is, perhaps, because there was no other 
way of representing these two things in the same painting; 
that is to say, our Saviour Himself carrying His Cross, as 
St. John says , 4 and Simon the Cyrenian also carrying it, as the 
other Evangelists say. 

By what has now been said, we may also answer the other 
doubt, namely, when did Simon begin to carry the Cross ? It 
is most probable that it was at the coming out of the city (as 
we have said), in order to ascend the hill which lay between it 
and Calvary. It appears that St. Matthew gives us to under¬ 
stand this, who, after he has related the crowning with thorns 
and the insults of the soldiers in the praetorium, says : Et 
duxerunt eum ut crucifigerent; exeuntes ciutem invenerunt hominem 
Cyrenooum , no?nine Simonem , etc.—‘And they led Him away,' 
he says, ‘ to crucify Him; and going out they found a man of 
Cyrene named Simon, him they forced to bear His Cross.’ 
What, then, is this going out, when they found Simon ? It 
must have been either when they came out of the house of 
the Governor, or when they came forth out of the city, but, 
whichever it may have been, it does not agree with what the 
abovenamed author says, that they obliged Simon to take up 
the Cross two hundred and thirty seven paces after they had 
come out of the praetorium, and five hundred and twenty seven 
before reaching the gate in order to leave the city. For, as to 
2 xxvii. 32. 3 xv. 21. 4 xix. 17. 



254 


The Sacred Passion. 


saying that immediately on coming out of the house of Pilate 
they found this man and hired him, taking him by way of 
precaution, with the intention of making use of him when the 
necessity should press, this does not seem probable, nor does 
it agree well with the cruelty of those men, who neither thought 
nor desired in any way to alleviate our Saviour’s sufferings, until 
they saw that He fell beneath the Cross and could not proceed 
any further. So that it appears that they hit on this plan on 
coming out of the city, and it seems also that this is rendered 
all the clearer by what St. Mark says : Et angariaverunt prce- 
tereuntem quempiam , Simonem Cyrenceum, venientem de villa , etc. 
—‘And they hired,’ he says, ‘one Simon a Cyrenian, who 
passed by coming out of the country’ from his farm or work, all 
which suggests that they were now out of the city, for they 
could see that the man was on his way and was coming from 
his farm or work, whereas of men who are inside the city it 
would not have been easy to see who was at rest or who was 
on his way, nor whence men came nor whither they were going. 
Thus, then, our Saviour took up His Cross at first alone, and 
afterwards delivered it to Simon. Et bonus ordo nostri profectus 
est (says St. Ambrose) 5 , utpriiis crucis suce troplmum ipse erigeret , 
deinde martyribus traderet erigendum —‘A good order of progress 
for us, that our Lord should first Himself raise the trophy of 
the Cross, and then hand it on to the martyrs to raise it 
after Him.’ 

Finally, it should be observed that what this author says 
about the place where they nailed our Saviour on the Cross 
being fourteen paces distant from the spot where the Cross was 
raised and fixed, takes for granted what many think, that our 
Saviour was nailed on the Cross while it was stretched on the 
ground. But this way of speaking is not perhaps the most 
probable, as we shall see in the following chapter. 


5 Lib. x. in Lucam. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 


Of the day and hour , and other circumstances , of the 
Crucifixion of our Lord. 

Our Saviour, having arrived at Calvary, the holy Evangelists 1 
state that He was crucified, but they do not declare the par¬ 
ticular manner in which this was done, nor do they say a word 
more on this point, referring to the ordinary mode of crucifying 
malefactors, and thinking any amplification or stronger expres¬ 
sion superfluous, after having said that they crucified Him. 
And although this is so, it will not be out of place to begin by 
examining what seems most probable as to some circumstances 
of this mystery, in order so to clear the way better for meditation. 

First, as regards the day. It is certain that our Lord was 
crucified on the sixth day, that is to say on Friday, and that 
His resurrection took place on the third day after, which was 
Sunday. What St. Gregory Nazianzene says on this subject is 
very worthy of note , 2 namely, that all the mystery of the Cross 
marvellously corresponds with the sin of the first man. Thus, 
he says, one tree is set against another tree, and one hand 
against another hand. Those hands, I say, that stretched 
themselves forth with fortitude against the hand that stretched 
itself forth with incontinency; those hands that were fastened 
and pierced with nails against that which was free and unbound 
and loose, those that when, stretched forth, embraced, joined 
and gathered to themselves all the ends of the earth, against 
that which banished Adam from Paradise. Thus also the 
lifting up on high was the opposite of the fall; the gall was 
contrary to the sweetness, the crown of thorns to the pride of 
man, and death was opposed to death. Thus speaks the Saint, 

1 St. Matt, xxvii. 35; St. Mark xv. 24; St.Luke xxiii. 33; St.John xix. 18. 

2 Or at. i. Apolog. 


256 


The Sacred Passion. 


showing how our Lord in His Passion and death retraced the 
steps by which Adam led us to death, and how, returning along 
the same path, He restored us to life. We may say the same 
of the day on which He died. For Adam was created on 
the sixth day, which was Friday, and having been a week in 
Paradise, on the following Friday, after his disobedience, he 
was expelled from it. Therefore our Lord willed to restore 
man on the self same day that he was created, and to redeem 
him on the self same day as that in which he was lost, and on 
that in which he was banished from Paradise to open to him 
the gates of Heaven. 

With regard to the hour, the difficulty is greater, for St John 
says 3 that it was about the sixth hour when Pilate, being on 
his seat of judgment, determined to pronounce sentence— Erat 
autejji parasceve Paschce , hora quasi sexta , et dicit Judceis: Ecce 
Rex pester . And on the other hand, St. Mark says 4 that it was 
the third hour when they crucified Him, Erat autem hora tertia , 
et crucijixerunt eum. Although many explanations have been 
given as to these apparently conflicting words of the Evangelists, 
it is certain that our Saviour was crucified before noon, and 
very near that hour. This hour may with truth be called the 
third, and likewise the sixth hour, or near noon, because it 
must be remembered that the Jews divided the whole day, 
which we call the artificial day (that is, from sunrise until 
sunset), into four portions, each of these portions containing 
about three of our hours. From the rising of the sun until 
nine o’clock of our reckoning was the first hour ; the third hour 
began from our nine o’clock and lasted until noon ; from noon 
until three in the afternoon was the sixth hour, and the ninth 
hour was comprised between three o’clock and the setting of 
the sun. It is also certain that in the common mode of speech, 
the time between one hour and another—for example, between 
eleven and twelve—is called from the first, that is, if we are 
asked what time it then is, we say eleven, because it is eleven 
o’clock past and gone, although the time may be approaching 
noon; as also at half past eleven, or later, we still say with 
3 xix. 14. 4 xv. 25. 



Hour of the Crucifixion. 


257 


truth that is twelve o’clock or near. Thus, as the third hour 
lasted from nine o’clock until noon, and our Saviour was 
crucified before noon, St. Mark says with perfect truth that it 
was the third hour when they crucified Him; inasmuch as it 
would be still considerably before noon when they arrived at 
Calvary and began the process of crucifixion, all of which is 
understood by St. Mark in the expression of crucifying Him. 
Thus also, when Pilate seated himself on his judgment seat to 
pronounce sentence, it would be already eleven o’clock, or a 
little later, according to our reckoning, as we have said, and as 
there now remained only the lesser portion of the third hour 
before midday arrived, St. John says that it was about the 
.sixth hour when Pilate pronounced sentence. On the other 
hand, as the Jews had everything ready prepared, and got 
through the passage to Calvary with great haste, and in order 
to proceed more quickly hired the Cyrenian, they thus reached 
Calvary and crucified our Lord before the third hour had come 
to an end. 

But it is not without great cause and much mystery that the 
Evangelists speak of this difference. When they say that our 
Lord was crucified at the sixth hour, they speak thus that they 
may enhance the greatness of the miracle of the darkness 
which followed and which lasted during three hours upon the 
.earth, that is to say, until the ninth hour, for the more near the 
darkness was to the point of noon, so much greater and more 
notorious was the miracle. The blessed St. Mark, who notes 
that our Saviour was crucified before the third hour was accom¬ 
plished, tells us two things that are worthy of great consideration. 
The first is, that our Saviour was hanging on the Cross before 
He died, for the whole space of time which elapsed between 
the sixth hour and the ninth, and even something more, 
amounting to more than three hours of our count and 
reckoning. The second is (and if the Evangelist had not 
.said it, it could barely have been believed), the short time 
which it took to conclude the cause of our Saviour. For 
although it was so grave a matter and beset with so many 
circumstances of great weight and difficulty, yet six hours did 

R 



The Sacred Passion. 


258 


not elapse between the time that it was begun and that at 
which it was ended. For it must have been after six o’clock 
in the morning when the Chief Priests and all their Council 
made the first accusation before Pilate, and it was not yet 
noon when the sentence was pronounced and executed. True it 
is that from our Lord’s humility and silence, as Isaias says , 5 His 
cause was hurried through, and as He did not resist, He was 
condemned against right and against all the rules of practice. 
But wherefore do we say that He did not resist, when we know 
of a truth that He had more desire to suffer death than His 
enemies had to inflict it upon Him, and that if He had not 
made haste to die no human force would have availed to put 
Him to death ? He made all this haste in accordance with 
what He had said many days before , 6 ‘ I have a baptism where¬ 
with I am to be baptized, and how am I straitened until it be 
accomplished ! ’ Thus much as to the time. 

With respect to the Cross, it is certain that it was of rough 
wood, unworked and unplaned, and in nothing different from 
the crosses of the thieves, because when the Empress St. Helena 
found it, a miracle was necessary in order to distinguish it from 
theirs. In short, it was such as would be made for a man’s 
dishonour and for torment. Some think that it consisted of two 
beams only, one traversing the other, as it is generally painted, 
either with a head rising above the two arms, or with none, as 
it is usual to paint the crosses of the two thieves, for they were 
all of the same workmanship. Others think 7 that a bracket or 
small piece of wood was nailed in addition on the outside face 
of the cross on which the feet of the crucified were propped, 
and that to it they were nailed. It is probable that this was 
usually done that some relief might be afforded to the dying 
person, and for the greater convenience of those who crucified 
him. There are, however, some who say s that this prop was 
taken away from beneath the feet of our Saviour, and that in 
order to put Him to greater torment they nailed His feet to the 

5 liii. 7. 6 St. Luke xii. 50. 

Greg. Turon. 1. L De Glor. Mart. c. 6 ; Iren. 1. ii. c. 42. 

8 Vide SalmeroD, t. x. tract 35. 



The Wood of the Cross. 


259 


upright beam of the Cross, as is generally seen in paintings. I 
do not know whether this opinion has any other origin than in 
the paintings, although there are some ancient pictures in which 
this prop is placed beneath the feet, and with this and with the 
title of the Cross there come to be four different pieces to make 
it. Perhaps on this is based the opinion entertained by some 9 
who say that the Cross was made of four different woods—that 
is to say, of cedar and olive, of palm and cypress. It may, 
however, be that the origin of this idea is founded upon some 
pious allegory rather than on history; because, too, the hurry 
and confusion was great, and might hardly allow of seeking and 
putting together these different kinds of wood. 

There are others who say 10 that the Cross was made of one 
piece only; that is to say, of a rough and knotted tree, and 
that, hewing off all the other branches, they left only two 
which were upright, and to these they nailed the Hands, 
leaving the Head in the air, without any support, and that the 
title was tied to and hung between these two branches. It is 
to this that St. Cyprian seems to allude in a verse of the Ligno 
Cruris, which says— 

Arboris hccc species lino de stipite surgit, 

Et viox in geminos extendit brachia ramos. 

And St. Gregory Nazianzene says— 

Uno item altero ramo arboris 

Dextram et sinistram extensus et fixus maims. 

It is, however, very probable that these saints spoke metaphor¬ 
ically and allegorically when they called the Cross a tree, 
because in this way the contemplation of the mystery was 
rendered sweeter and more devout; in the first place, by 
representing the Saviour as fruit gathered from that tree, as 
the Church says in one her hymns, where she says— 

Crux Jidelis inter omnes 
Arbor una nobilis, 

Nulla silva talem profert, 

Fronde, Jlore, genuine. 

9 Vide Barrad, t. iv. 1 . vii. c. 3. 10 B. Birgit., 1 . iv. c. 10. 

R 2 



26 o 


The Sacred Passion. 


Secondly, because this metaphor harmonizes with the mystery 
so greatly lauded by the saints, that Adam having stretched 
forth his hand to the forbidden tree, our Saviour stretched 
forth His, in order to be nailed to the tree of the Cross, which 
the Church thus sings in a hymn— 

De parentis protoplasti 
Frande factor condolens , 

Quando pomi noxialis 
In necem inorsu ruit: 

Ipse lignum tunc notavit , 

Damna ligni ut solveret. 

It remains, then, that the holy Cross was made of two crossed 
beams, as it is ordinarily painted, and that it had a tablet above 
the head, on which the title was inscribed, and another on 
which the feet rested, unless, through an excess of cruelty, this 
was removed in the case of our Saviour. 

There is also no doubt that our Saviour was fastened to the 
Cross with nails, because the very words crucified and crucifixion 
used by the Evangelists, signify this; and St. Thomas, after 
the Resurrection, stood out positively, saying , 114 Except I shall 
see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into 
the place of the nails.’ But there is some difficulty as to the 
number of these, some saying that there were only three, both 
feet being pierced by the same one, as is ordinarily seen in 
pictures ; 12 others hold it to be more true that the nails were 
four, all of one kind and size, and each foot being nailed down 
by its own nail to the bracket or support placed beneath them, 
as many ancient images show, and as Gregory of Tours and 
other authors clearly declare. 

The Evangelists do not mention the crown of thorns, though 
it appears to be certain and is commonly believed that the 
soldiers, although they took off His clothes, to crucify Him, 
did not remove the crown from His head, and so it is 

11 St. John xx. 25. 

12 Greg. Tur. 1 . v. De Glor. Mart. 6; Cyp. Serin, de Pass.; B. Birgit. 
1 . v. c. 70, 1 . vii. c. 15 ; Tertull. Lib. contra Jud. c. 13; B. Birgit. 
1. i. c. 10. 



Mode of Crucifixion. 


261 


represented in all pictures, and affirmed by writers worthy of 
credence. 

But, respecting one matter there are several different 
opinions, and that is as regards the mode in which our Lord 
was crucified . 13 For some say that He was fastened upon the 
Cross whilst it was lying upon the ground, and that His arms 
and feet were stretched with great violence, and that He was 
then nailed upon it, and that afterwards, by means of ropes and 
other appliances, and with agonizing suffering (and indeed it 
could not be otherwise), they raised the Cross with the Body 
suspended upon it, until they had placed it upright and in the 
place prepared for it. Others say that they first raised the 
Cross , 14 and placed it firmly in its proper position (which it 
would have been difficult to do if our Lord had already been 
crucified), and that then they placed scaffolds or ladders near, 
for our Saviour and His executioners to ascend, and crucified 
Him in the sight of the people. 

This second mode of meditating is more in conformity 
with the custom of executing any juridical sentence with 
publicity and solemnity, in a high and conspicuous place, whilst 
it also harmonizes well with the mode of speaking common to 
many saints, who say our Saviour ascended the Cross, and with 
what Holy Church says in her prayer, Domine Jesn Christie 
qui hora sexta pro redemptione mundi cruris patibulum ascendisti , 
etc. And thus, as they afterwards lowered the Body from the 
Cross whilst it remained upright, it appears that they also 
placed our Lord upon it by the aid of the same steps and 
ladders. 

There is likewise another surmise in support of this, and it 
is this. All the acquaintances of our Lord, and the women 
who had accompanied and followed Him from Galilee, placed 
themselves at this time at a little distance, as the Evangelists 
note. Amongst them were Mary Magdalene and the two 

13 Anselm, 1 . De Pass. Dom.; D. Ant. 1 p. Hist. tit. v. c. 6. 

14 Athan. Serin, de Pass.; Cyp. Serin, de Pass.; Anselm, 1 . x. in 
Lucam ; Iren. 1 . xi. c. 2 ; Bonav. in Fascii 3, et in Medit. Vitce Christi, 
c. 78. Vide P. Martin de Rio, Serin, de Pass. 






262 


The Sacred Passion. 


Maries who ordinarily accompanied the Blessed Virgin; and at 
this time, more than at any other, it is to be believed that she 
would not separate herself from them. Therefore, when they 
arrived at the mount, whilst our Lord was being crucified, she, 
as well as the others, stood at some distance, as much to 
escape the remarks and rudenesses of the furious and mad¬ 
dened mob, as also in some measure to moderate their grief. 
But as the Blessed Virgin had come forth from her retirement 
at the cost of such bitter suffering, impelled by God and by 
her desire to see with her own eyes that which during the 
remainder of her life was to be ever present to her thoughts, 
and afford her matter for contemplation, her heart would not 
let her place herself at a distance unless she could see from 
where she was that which was passing, nor would she have 
been able to see this had they crucified our Lord upon the 
ground. So far then it seems that they crucified Him after the 
Cross had been raised, so that even those who were standing 
afar off could see Him. And if it were done in this manner 
(as seems most probable, though the Gospel does not speak 
certainly in this manner), then the event took place in the way 
we shall see in the following chapter. 



CHAPTER XXX. 


Our Saviour is crucified between two thieves. 

With all the fatigue and labour which we have seen, our 
Saviour arrived at Calvary, where He was to offer the sacrifice 
which would appease the anger of God towards men and 
and satisfy for the sins of the whole world. There they set 
down the three crosses, and there was a halt made of all the 
company which had come out of the city. Whilst the crosses 
were being planted in their places, they offered our Saviour a 
cup of wine prepared with myrrh, called by St. Mark , 1 myrrha- 
tum vinum , and by St. Matthew , 2 wine mixed with gall; either 
that the myrrh was very bitter, for all that is bitter to the taste 
is often termed gall, or perhaps 3 because some gall was mingled 
with it. This drink was given to those who were condemned 
to die by the torment of the cross, that their senses might be 
numbed and deadened by the warmth and strength of the 
wine, and thus they might not feel at all, or feel much less, the 
pain they had to suffer. This act of compassion (arranged, 
perhaps, by the pious women who accompanied Him, or by 
the officers and executioners who were accustomed to act thus 
towards any criminal whatsoever) was accepted by our Lord 
with marks of gratitude, and raising the wine to His mouth He 
tasted it , 4 but having perceived its bitterness with His tongue , 5 
He would not drink of it, showing thereby that He did not 
need any succour to mitigate the pain of His torments, seeing 
that He was possessed of strength and will to undergo others 
far greater. Nor did He desire that it should be thought that 
the fortitude, patience, and perfection in suffering which He 

1 xv. 23. 2 xxvii. 34. 3 St. Augustine, De Cons. Evang. 1 . iii. 

4 St. Matt, xxvii. 34. 5 St. Mark xv. 23. 


264 


The Sacred Passion . 


showed on the Cross were caused by the warmth of the wine, 
the warmth of the love and charity of the Holy Ghost 6 with 
which He offered Himself to His Father in sacrifice being 
so much greater. Therefore, He only accepted in the wine 
what was bitter and painful to the taste, and refused that which 
afforded some relief to His body. 

Our Saviour was then stripped of the whole of His 
garments with the same discourtesy and cruelty as had been 
shown Him on other occasions. They crucified Him naked, 
since the Evangelist says that the executioners divided His 
garments and cast lots for them, with the exception of the 
under tunic, w'hich was woven without seam, and which He 
wore next His body. It cannot be doubted that our Saviour 
suffered greatly from the shame and exposure that He was 
made to undergo in so public a place, in the middle of the 
day, and in the presence of so great a crowd of people, and 
that He w^as more wounded by the eyes of those who looked 
upon Him than pierced by the nails. The Prophets, moreover,, 
did not keep silence respecting His feelings under this outrage, 
for one of them said , 7 Ipsi vero consideraverunt me: diviserunt 
sibi restimenta mea , et super restem meam miserutit sortem —‘They 
have looked and stared upon Me. They parted My garments 
among them, and upon My vesture they cast lots.’ It is very 
important to consider, says St. Ambrose , 8 in what manner our 
Saviour ascended the Cross, and to see that He ascended it 
naked; so also let him ascend it who thinks to conquer the 
w^orld, so as not to receive aid nor succour from the world. 
Adam was conquered who sought garments with which to 
cover himself; Christ conquered when He stripped Himself oF 
them, and ascended the Cross naked, in the state in which 
nature formed us and of wdiich God was the author. So also 
the first Adam lived in Paradise, and so the second had to 
enter Paradise. Thus writes St Ambrose; but although he 
and other saints and authors give us to understand that our 
Saviour was entirely naked when He ascended the Cross, it is, 
nevertheless, very piously believed, that seeing Him suffering 
6 Heb. ix. 14. 7 Psalm xxi. 18. 8 Lib. x. in Luc. 



Ascending the Cross. 265 


great shame from being naked, they gave Him a veil, or linen 
cloth, with which to gird Himself, as was revealed to 
St. Bridget , 9 and that He received it with great joy, and with 
His own hands fastened and adjusted it, not permitting any to 
help Him in that office, and teaching us thereby modesty and 
the love of purity. 

The Cross was already fixed in its place, and the steps or 
ladder whereby to ascend it had been placed and fastened, and 
all being now ready, the High and Eternal Priest began to 
ascend, with no other ornament than a crown of thorns on 
His head, stripped of His clothing that He might be put to 
greater shame, with a large wound on His shoulders, and His 
body all scored with lashes and scourges. At either side of 
Him went up two executioners, who with one hand helped him 
to mount, and in the other carried the nails and hammers 
and other necessary instruments, all the people looking upon 
Him, and the Jews shouting, clamouring, and deriding Him 
greatly. 

Our Lord ascended with His face turned towards the Cross, 
looking at it close with all the love and desire with which He 
had looked forward to it for so many years, for on it He was to 
recline His body, shed forth His blood, and end His life 
through it He was to combat, through it to triumph, and 
through it to redeem the world. For if the blessed St. Andrew 
rejoiced when he saw his cross afar off, through love of his 
Master Who had died upon it, it is not wonderful that our 
Saviour rejoiced over His Cross, through love of His children 
who would die for it, and of the innumerable martyrs who 
would die on it, and through love and reverence for His 
Eternal Father, Who would be glorified by it. And we may 
imagine that in His Heart He uttered such words as these— 
‘O precious Cross ! O blessed wood ! For three and thirty 
years the hope of thee has pierced My soul and drawn it to 
thyself! Now today thou wilt hold My Body nailed on thee 
for three hours in thy possession. Glorious thou wert for having 
so long inflicted a martyrdom on my thoughts. Today thou 
9 L. i. c. 15. et‘ 1 . iv. c. 76. 




266 


The Sacred Passio 7 t. 


shalt be still more glorious, martyrizing My Body with lively 
and not imaginary sufferings. O Cross, how different and how 
changed shalt thou be this day from what thou hast been until 
now ! Before thou wast the instrument of death and the token 
of infamy, from today thou shalt be the tree of life and the 
ladder of glory. With joyful heart I come to place Myself in 
thine arms, that henceforth it may be known that they are to 
be open to all men of all sorts whatsoever who have recourse 
to thee. To thee will be nailed My feet and My hands, and 
with them the sins and the wickedness of men. On thee will 
My Body be crucified, and together with It will be crucified the 
old man , 10 that the body of sin may be destroyed. On thee will 
be shed My Blood, that by it the handwriting and the decree 11 
against all the sons of Adam may be blotted out. O Eternal 
Father, acknowledge now Thy Son, Who has been brought to 
this ignominious and bitter strait through Thy will alone, for 
Thou didst desire that I should take upon Me the payment of 
the debt due by others ! I do not ask, Lord, that Thou shouldst 
deliver Me from these sufferings, but that Thou shouldst pardon 
their sins.’ 

Then was represented to our Lord how beloved and reve¬ 
renced that Cross was to be through love of Him, and because 
He went up to suffer upon it on that day. There also were 
represented to Him all the martyrs who, remembering the 
charity with which He offered Himself to death, would suffer 
for it a glad and glorious martyrdom. There He beheld also 
all the tender feelings with which His faithful friends would feel 
for Him, and the tears which they would shed while contem¬ 
plating His Cross. There He saw all the victories which would 
be obtained by Christians over their enemies, visible and in¬ 
visible, by means of that Cross, and all the miracles which in 
virtue of that sign would be worked in ages yet to come. 
Finally, there all those saints offered themselves to His sight 
who, in their life and by their mortification and penitence, 
would be crucified unto Him, and He saw how that Cross 
would become the true standard beneath which heaven would 
10 Rom. vi. 6. 11 Coloss. ii. 14. 



Sight of our Lady. 


267 


be gained and conquered and filled with the blessed, who in 
honour of that day would follow and imitate Him. 

With these thoughts, or with others, on which He Himself 
thought it better to dwell, our Lord reached the place where He 
was to be nailed to the Cross, and turned His face to the 
people who were there present and His back to the Cross, 
which was placed in such a manner (as St. John Damascene 
observes ) 12 that, having His back to the Cross, it was also 
turned to the city of Jerusalem, so as never more to look on it 
with love, His face being turned towards, the west, that is to 
say, towards the city of Rome, destined to be the chair of the 
true faith, the head of His Church, and the seat of the Supreme 
Pontiff. In consequence, His face was turned towards the king¬ 
dom of Spain, in which His religion was so greatly to flourish. 

Our Saviour, then, turned His back to the Cross and His 
face to the people who were there present—turned it likewise 
to His divine Mother, who there beheld Him placed in this 
state of disgrace, naked as she had borne ^im, with the signs 
of His past torment and of the scourges with which His whole 
body was scored. And the Son thus raised on high, in order to 
be nailed to the Cross amidst so great a multitude, turned His 
eyes at once towards His Mother, both because those who are 
in any tribulation look towards those who love them most, and 
also because there was no one else there who knew Him, con¬ 
fessed Him, and loved Him as she did. Many times had our 
Lord looked upon His Mother during those three and thirty 
years of His life, with the love and reverence due to His Mother, 
and with the most intense and incomparable charity, because 
as God He knew the excellence of the Blessed Virgin, and 
rejoiced in that marvellous work of the Father and of the Holy 
Spirit and of Himself. In like manner that most holy Mother 
had many times with love and reverence looked at and adored 
the face and the eyes of her Son, with the most intense love as 
her Son, with reverence and homage as her Lord, with thank¬ 
fulness and gratitude as her Redeemer, and as the Author of 
-all the grace which there was in her and in all men. But who 
12 Lib. De Fid. Orthod. iv. c. 13. 



268 


The Sacred Passion. 


can come to understand the love and gladness with which these 
two lights of the heaven had so often been accustomed to look on 
each other? And how changed were all things, when we consider 
the grief with wdiich they beheld each other now ! when the Son,, 
in His necessity and in the midst of His public disgrace, gazed 
on the Mother, and the Mother never withdrew her eyes from 
her Son in all His travail. 

Nevertheless, although their grief had swollen to an incom¬ 
parable height, their love had in no degree diminished. For 
the Mother looked *on her Son offering Himself on the Cross 
for her also, and more for her than for any other creature, since 
she had more share in that death and derived more profit from 
it than any other creature. Since, then, she knew so well the 
value of the gifts and graces which God had bestowed on her, 
how great must have been the compassion and love with which 
she looked on her Son, Who was then gaining and meriting 
them for her ? And the Son Who so greatly loved the Church 
■that He had delivered Himself up to the Cross for it, and shed 
His Blood to cleanse it and make it thereby glorious , 13 and free 
from spot or wrinkle or any such thing, with how great love did 
He then deliver Himself up for His Mother and shed for her 
the blood which He had received from her, burning with love 
for the beauty which was in her soul! Our Lord, then, full of 
longing for the loveliness which His Blood would produce in our 
souls and much more for the beauty of His beloved Mother, who 
was there present, of His own will and with great and measure¬ 
less charity, stretched forth His arms and hands on the wood, 
and the executioners putting the nails into the palms, with 
vigorous blows nailed them to the Cross, and fastened them 
securely upon it. Then they took hold of His feet, and nailed 
each of them with its own nail, or else both together with one, 
and fastened them likewise to the wood. And thus the King 
of all ages remained, not bound with cords, but fastened with 
nails, His feet being broken and His hands torn, nailed with 
iron through His pierced limbs and hanging on the Cross by 
His own wounds. 


13 Eph. v. 27. 



Anguish of our Lady. 


269 


Although at the time of the nailing there would have been 
no cessation of the great cries and shouts, yet who can doubt 
but that those blows penetrated the ears of that Mother and 
fixed those nails sharply into her soul and heart? At first 
indeed His feet and hands were fastened close to the Cross, 
but after a time the wounds opened with the weight of the sacred 
Body, and from the strain put on them to support themselves 
the precious Blood began to stream more plentifully from His 
veins, and then those four rivers of Paradise began to flow 
which were to fertilize the whole earth. Let us behold, then, 
with devout attention, and adore this divine Blood, for it is the 
price of our redemption. Nor let us turn the eyes of our soul 
away from the Face of our Lord, which although it ever retained 
the dignity and calmness of God, could not at that time but 
become changed and ghastly, from the pain of the wounds, the 
anguish of hanging on and being supported by them, and 
from the quantity of blood which ran from them. 

O earth, which didst bear the naked body of thy Creator 
nailed to a Cross ! O heaven, which didst shed thy light upon 
His nakedness and shame ! since you were made by His hands, 
how is it you do not acknowledge the Lord Who made you, 
and give token of your grief? The heaven indeed did give 
token, for its light was darkened, and the earth, for it shook 
and trembled, and the rocks, for they were rent. And how felt 
the pious heart of the Mother who bore Him, and the virginal 
breasts which gave Him suck ? O heart, more firmly fixed in 
the will of God than the rocks themselves, since under the force 
of such anguish it did not break ! O soul, brighter and more 
resplendent than the sun, since under the power of such dis¬ 
honour it was not obscured ! O spirit, immoveable and more 
securely founded upon God than the whole earth upon its 
centre, since under the weight of so great a tempest it was not 
disturbed, nor gave any sign of impatience or of weakness ! But 
it could not be that there was no change in that sacred face, 
because although her will was entirely subject to that of the 
Father, the human heart of such a Mother who had lived onlv 
in the life of her Son and who now beheld Him suffering and 



2 JO 


The Sacred Passion. 


dying, must certainly have suffered immense sorrow, and the 
blood rushing to her heart must have left her face wan and pale 
and deprived the whole of her body of strength. And of a truth 
her life would have failed altogether, if she had not been 
sustained and strengthened by divine power. 

Then they crucified the two thieves , 14 nailing them likewise 
with nails to their crosses, making no difference between them 
and our Saviour, except that they put Him in the midst , 15 
bestowing upon Him that disgraceful preference, in order to 
signify that He was a chief amongst thieves, their captain and 
head. 

They placed, moreover, at the top of the Cross, by command 
of Pilate, a tablet, on which was written the cause of His death. 
This title 16 was written in three languages, Hebrew, Greek, and 
Latin, that all those who at that time had come to Jerusalem, 
of what nation soever they were, might read and understand it. 
And the letters were not written, but cut and engraved on the 
tablet, as may be seen to this day on the portion of the title 
which is preserved at Rome, and in which three things may be 
noted. First, that although the Evangelists differ with respect 
to the exact words of this title, for St. Matthew says , 17 Hie est 
Jesus Rex Judceorum —‘This is Jesus the King of the Jews,’ 
while St. Mark only gives the words , 18 Rex Judceorum —‘ The 
King of the Jews,’ and St. Luke , 19 Hie est Rex Judceorum — 
‘This is the King of the Jews,’ it is because they were intent 
upon giving the meaning of the title, which is all the same 
whatever words they use, that is to say, that the accusation 
which had been brought against our Lord, and which was the 
cause of His death, was that He had claimed the kingdom of 
the Jews. For the actual words, as they are written in the 
title preserved in Rome, are the same as those given by St. 
John , 20 Jesus Nazarenus, Rex Jtcdceorum —‘Jesus of Nazareth, 
King of the Jews.’ Secondly, it is to be observed that, 
although as regards the order in which the languages are set 

14 St. Mark xv. 27. 15 St. John xix. 18. 16 Ibid. 20. 

17 St. Matt, xxvii. 37. 18 St. Mark xv. 26. 10 St. Luke xiii. 38. 

20 St. John xix. 19. 



The Title of the Cross. 


271 


down, St. Luke says 21 that they were written in Greek, Latin, 
and Hebrew letters, it is because the truth of his statement did 
not require the exact order in which these languages were 
placed, but only that the inscription was written in all three of 
them. But St. John, who was standing very near the Cross, 
gives not only the number but the order, saying that the title 
was written in Hebrew and Greek and Latin. Thirdly, it is to 
be noted that as the Hebrews read in a reverse order from the 
Latins, that is to say, beginning their lines from right to left, so 
in the title of the Cross, not only the Hebrew letters, but also 
the Greek and the Latin are written in the same way, the line 
beginning on the other hand from our way of reading, as thus— 

.SUNERAZAN SUSEJ 

Pilate directed this title to be placed thus, either because it 
was the usual custom to put it over all condemned criminals 
(and if this were so there would be one for each of the thieves), 
or else, if it were not the custom, the Governor was desirous to 
make this distinction in the case of our Saviour. For, as He 
was of a truth innocent, and was regarded by many as a 
prophet, and had been condemned unjustly without a cause—as 
the judge himself had protested many times that he had yielded 
through vain fear to give sentence—he now wished to excuse 
himself and to assign a reason for his conduct by means of 
that public writing, signifying thereby that he, being minister of 
Cassar, had not condemned Him without good reason, for that 
He had claimed the throne, and that it was that accusation and 
no other which had been brought against Him. This may have 
been the intention of Pilate, but that of God was very different, 
as will be seen by what took place afterwards, and is observed, 
by the Apostle St. John . 22 

21 St. Luke xxiii. 38. 22 St. John xix. 19. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 


The Jews and Gentiles insidt our Saviour on the Cross. 

Having finished their business of crucifying our Lord, the 
soldiers who had executed the sentence took away the ladders 
which they had placed against the Cross, leaving it free and 
unsupported, sustaining in its arms, in the sight of heaven and 
earth, the price of our salvation. 

All the people who had come out of the city stood 
'beholding 1 and feasting their eyes on this spectacle, and 
mocking and deriding Him Whom they thus saw suffer, and 
in truth by only looking on Him they outraged Him, because, 
in a case of so great dishonour, the having many spectators 
makes the dishonour greater. This is one of the causes why 
the sun withdrew its rays, as though turning away its eyes, in 
order not to behold Him, and covering itself with a shadow 
and veil, that our Saviour might not be looked at freely, 
tempering in what way it could the public shame which its 
Creator was suffering. But the common people, as soon as 
they saw Him suspended on the Cross, raised their voices and 
their hands with shouts of derision, and uttered curses upon 
Him, according to what was written in the law , 2 ‘ He is accursed 
of God, who hangeth on a tree.’ To this curse 3 our Lord 
subjected Himself, that He might free us from the eternal 
curse. 

Then the soldiers who had crucified Him took His gar¬ 
ments, which, according to custom, were the wages of their 
labour. And how great wages they were, if they had but been 
able to know and esteem them aright! In themselves the 
.garments were not very precious or of great value, for they were 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 35. 2 Deut. xxi. 23. 3 Gal. iiii. 13. 



Our Lord’s Raiment. 


273 


those of a Man Who loved poverty, and were therefore poor 
and common, although decent and such as were usually worn, 
consisting of a tunic which fitted close to the body, and was 
as it were a large shirt, with whatever other interior clothing 
every one used, and an over tunic which covered all His body, 
with a mantle or cloak which was worn over the shoulders. 
The soldiers then divided these garments into four portions , 4 
that each of them might have a part, as St. John observes. 
According to this, the executioners who crucified our Lord 
were four in number, and, as the Evangelists give us to under¬ 
stand , 5 to avoid disputes among themselves, they cast lots to 
decide what each man should take. The tunic or under 
garment did not enter into this partition. It is a common 
tradition that the Blessed Virgin had woven it with her own 
hands, and had clothed her Divine Son with it when He was a 
Child, and that He had always worn it, and that its size had 
grown in proportion to His stature. This tunic 6 was without 
seam, and was woven from the top to the bottom with such 
marvellous skill, that the soldiers would not divide it for fear of 
spoiling the work, without which the material of which it was 
made was of little value. Nor did they want to place it in any 
of the four portions into which they had divided the other 
vestments, that they might not lose the right which each of 
them had to it. Therefore, they determined to cast lots for it, 
so that he to whom it fell might have it whole and entire. In 
this way, with fresh scorn, and making a sort of pleasant 
entertainment over the robes of the pretended King, they 
robbed Him even of the poor and scanty treasures which He 
possessed. So far did this justice executed on Him, or the 
injustice used to Him, go, that He was not permitted to leave 
■even His raiment to His Mother and His friends, as pledges or 
mementos of His love, but was made to behold His enemies 
taking them before His eyes and dividing them at their own 
pleasure, seizing upon His property as a reward, and as 
payment for the injury they had done to His Person by nailing 

4 St. John xix. 23. 5 St. Mark xv. 24. 

6 St. John xix. 23. 

S 



The Sacred Passion. 


274 


Him on the Cross. In this manner 7 the soldiers fulfilled r 
without knowing or understanding it, that which had been 
prophesied in the Psalm, s ‘ They parted My garments among, 
them, and upon My vesture they cast lots.’ 

It was the custom among the Romans to watch the con¬ 
demned upon the cross as long as any life remained in them, 
to prevent any one from venturing to take them down. For 
this cause, after having divided the garments , 9 the soldiers sat 
down to watch our Saviour, and they did so more willingly and 
with greater care and vigilance because they had been warned 
and instructed by the Priests and Scribes, who feared lest our 
Saviour should disappear, or, by means of some false miracle, 
come down from the Cross. They feared likewise that His 
friends and followers might seek to take Him down while yet 
alive, or that His disciples would steal away His body after He 
was dead, just as they feared it would be stolen after it was 
placed in the sepulchre. Oh, sorrowful hours and long weary 
time during which this cruel torment lasted ! Even the strong 
soldiers were tired of standing; and what must that most 
delicate of men have felt, nailed as He was to the Cross ? The 
Passion of our Lord lasted so long that His executioners were 
wearied of sustaining their own weight; how great then must 
have been the weariness of His sacred Arms, and what suffering 
that of His holy Hands, from Whose wounds hung the whole 
Body? And what weariness also in the Feet, which had no 
support but the nails by which they were pierced ? 

In the same way, the common people, of whom there were 
many then in the city, not being able to remain there the whole 
time, some went and others came; all of them blasphemed 
Him 10 with words and mocks, making insulting gestures and 
wagging their heads. In this way was fulfilled to the letter 
that which was written in the Psalms , 11 Omnes videntes me 
deriser wit me; locuti sunt labiis es moverunt caput —‘All they 
that saw Me have laughed Me to scorn; they have spoken 
with the lips and wagged the head.’ And , 12 Et ego factus sum 

7 St. Matt, xxvii. 35. 8 Psalm xxi. 19. 9 Ibid. 

10 St. Matt, xxvii. 39. 11 xxi. 8. 12 Psalm cviii. 25. 



“Come down from the Cross!” 


275 


opprobrium Mis, videruut me, et moverimt capita sua —‘And I am 
become a reproach to them; they saw Me, and they shaked 
their heads.’ For what they said was , 13 ‘Vah, Thou that 
destroyest the Temple of God, and in three days wilt rebuild 
it, where is now Thy power ? Wherefore dost Thou not save 
Thyself? If Thou be the Son of Gojd, come down from the 
Cross, and we will believe Thee.’ 

The people believed the calumnies which the priests had 
published against Him, how that He had boasted He would 
destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days, and how He 
had said He was the Son of God, and they flung this in His 
face, scoffing at Him as a liar, and rejoicing to see Him sus¬ 
pended on a cross, because thus His impostures had been 
made clear and manifest; for if He had been really He Whom 
He said He was, and had the power which He claimed to 
possess, how could He better show it than by freeing Himself 
from the torment which He was suffering ? O blind people, 
who had no light to perceive the immense charity of Him Who 
was dying upon the Cross ! You could not believe that He was 
possessed of such power because He would not use it in His 
own behalf, believing that if He really had it He would avail 
Himself of it first of all to save Himself! You required as a 
sign that He was the Spn of God that He should come down 
from the Cross, when He could give no greater or better sign 
that He was so than by dying upon it for the love of God and 
the salvation of men, and by rising again on the third day , 14 
after having, like Jonas, been swallowed up by the whale, and 
building up again the temple of His sacred Body after you had 
destroyed it. 

It is not without much cause that the Evangelists have left 
on record these blasphemies which were uttered against our 
Saviour during His hour of agony; for it would have hardly 
appeared credible, if they had not affirmed it, that in the heart 
of men there could have been so much savagery and cruelty, 
that they would have no compassion or sentiment of humanity 
for One Whom they beheld dying with so much agony and 
13 St. Matt, xxvii. 40. > 14 St. Luke xi. 30. 


S 2 




276 


The Sacred Passion . 


shame, even granted He had been their enemy, and was suffer¬ 
ing for the most grievous crimes. For wicked men, when they 
are punished as criminals, have friends to encourage and 
console them, and all men succour and accompany them and 
show tokens of emotion and of grief, desiring to show that they 
are just in inflicting punishment, but that they are also human 
in feeling compassion. But of our Saviour alone it is written , 15 
that He looked for one who would grieve with Him, but there 
was none, and for one that would comfort Him, but He found 
none. Instead of this, those wretched men, urged on by evil 
spirits from hell (for it could not be otherwise), seeing Him in 
such a state as that sorrow for it cleaved the rocks themselves , 16 
added sorrow to His sorrows, wounding and tacking Him with 
their tongues, and filling His Heart with gall and bitterness. 

Nor were the Priests and Scribes and the elders of the 
people those who had least to do with this unnatural uproar, 
for they were there engaged in feeding the fire and putting into 
the mouths of the rude multitude the words and the arguments 
which they addressed to our Lord. For they spoke in the 
same way amongst themselves, and mocking said one to the 
other , 17 4 He saved others, and He cannot save Himself. It 
is clear that His power was a pretence, and His miracles all 
impostures, since everything failed Him when He had most 
need of it. Very applicable to Him is the common phrase , 18 
Physician, cure Thyself! If He be the King of Israel and the 
promised Messias, let Him come down from the Cross in our 
sight, and here we are ready to receive and to believe in Him. 
He says that He trusts in God, let Him now deliver Him and 
help Him, since He has recourse to God, and since He 
Himself has said that He is the Son of God.’ 

Thus spoke those arrogant priests, proving in deed that our 
Saviour was the true Messias, of Whom it had been prophesied 
that these self same insults should be offered to Him, and the 
self same reasoning and speeches used which were now in their 
mouths. For in the Psalm 19 it is -written, that they were to put 

15 Psalm Ixviii. 21. 16 Ibid. 27. 17 St. Matt, xxvii. 41. 

18 St. Luke iv. 23. 19 xxi. 9. 



Insults of the People. 


2 77 


Him to scorn, speaking with their lips and wagging their heads, 
saying, Speravit in Domino , eripiat cum, salvum faciat eum, 
quoniam vult eum —‘ He hoped in God the Lord, let Him 
deliver Him, let Him save Him, seeing He delighteth in Him.’ 
And in another part , 20 Si enim est venis Filins Dei , suscipiet 
ilium , et liberabit cum de manibus contrariorum; contumelia et 
tormento interroge?nus eum. Which is as though they had said, 

‘ Let us make the trial upon Him of injuries and torments ; for 
if He be truly the Son of God, He will take up His cause and 
deliver Him out of the hands of His enemies.’ And this is 
what the Scribes and Pharisees said. 

Oh, how mischievous is bad example when set by superiors! 
The people deemed these arguments to be good because they 
saw that the Scribes and Pharisees approved them. And 
although, on account of their grave and decorous character, 
they spoke only one to another , 21 the others uttered them 
aloud, and threw them, with the utmost inhumanity, in our 
Saviour’s face. For this is what the people who passed to and 
fro 22 cried out to Him—‘Vah, Thou that sayest that Thou 
hast so much power as to be able to destroy the Temple of 
God, and in three days to set it up again, why dost Thou not 
save Thyself?’ The Gentile soldiers also 23 who were guarding 
Him mocked Him, and coming near where He could see and 
hear them, said to Him—‘If Thou be the King of the Jews, 
save Thyself.’ The self same blasphemy 24 was uttered by the 
two thieves who were crucified with Him, they also exclaiming 
—‘ If Thou be the Christ, deliver Thyself and deliver us also 
from the cross ! ’ That adulterous and unbelieving generation 
had required a sign as a confirmation of all that our Lord had 
given during His ministry, but He was resolved to give them 
no other sign than that of Jonas the Prophet , 25 and to confirm 
His doctrine and the miracles He had worked during His life 
by persevering upon the Cross until His death. 

20 Wisdom ii. 18. 

St. Mark xv. 31. 22 St. Matt, xxvii. 40. 23 St. Luke xxiii. 26. 

24 St. Matt, xxvii. 44; St. Mark xv. 32 ; St. Luke xxiii. 39. 

25 St. Luke xi. 30. 






278 


The Sacred Passion. 


But those blind priests were obstinate in their evil arguments, 
and gave to the people these stones to fling at Him, and for 
this cause they had come out of the city. It would have been 
better if they had remained there, and had been ashamed, 
even on account of their authority alone, to be at the execution 
of such a sentence, or if at least that they had been held back 
by some scruple of their feigned piety, or out of reverence for 
the festival of the Pasch, as on that account they had made a 
scruple of entering the prsetorium of Pilate. And that nothing 
might escape their censure, they found fault with the title 
which Pilate had commanded should be placed upon the Cross, 
as being a thing which had been done without consulting them 
or asking their opinion, and so they said it had issued in a 
notable error. For He ought not, they said, to have been 
called King of the Jews, which He was not, for if He had been, 
He would not have deserved punishment for it, nor would they 
have consented that such an affront should be offered to their 
King, nor did they desire to have Him for King, nor that one 
Who had sustained' such infamy should be so named. Sup¬ 
posing that the Governor had not paid attention to this point, 
the Chief Piiests went to him and said—‘ Do not permit, sir, 
that there should be written on the title, King of the Jews , but 
that He said, I am King of the Jews .’ 26 But these miserable 
men, by all their clamour and diligence, did nothing but serve, 
without knowing it, the Providence of God, "Who desired to 
honour His Son, and to open the eyes of all so that they 
might carefully observe the glorious title of the Cross, to which 
Pilate adhered firmly, not changing a single letter, and, not¬ 
withstanding what the Chief Priests said, he treated them as 
ignorant men, saying , 27 4 What I have written, I have written.’ 
For our Lord willed that in all languages and nations it should 
be published and believed that Jesus the Nazarene was the 
true King of the Jews, and that He had died to redeem and 
sanctify His people, and that this was to be understood all 
over the world, and to be believed by all nations and confessed 
in all languages, in order that the words which had been 
26 St. John xix. 21. 27 Ibid. 22. 



The Pattern on the Mount. 


279 


prophesied might be accomplished, Dicite in nationibus , quia 
Dominus regnavit a ligno —‘Say among the nations that the 
Lord hath reigned from the wood.’ 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

How good Christians find a pattern, remedy , and 
consolation in Jesus Christ crucified. 

It was the height of the Wisdom of God that after having 
come into the world and made Himself Man, He should 
choose, in order to leave it, the most infamous and painful of 
deaths, and should conquer His Kingdom through the wood of 
the Cross, forcing open by violence the road to eternal rest 
and glory by means of insults and torments ; blunting thereby 
the edge of the strongest and most powerful weapons of the 
world, and giving His own people courage to tread it under 
foot as a beaten enemy, and taking away all fear from them 
even though they be placed in great straits, in the hope of 
passing by means of the same, as He did, to triumph and 
glory. 

He taught us also by this that highest reverence, obedience, 
and love which we owe to God above all things, being willing 
to part with everything, and even with life itself, when it is 
necessary in order to glorify Him and fulfil His command¬ 
ments. Here also He gives us strength for our weakness, 
arming us with patience, humility, and confidence in God 
against all events, however adverse they may be; so that thus 
we are made stronger than all our enemies, despising all their 
power through the virtue of the Cross ; not feeling their blows 
and strokes, which all light on temporal things, to the love of 
which we ought by the power of the Cross to be crucified and 




28 o 


The Sacred Passion. 


dead. Here also He teaches us the path of peace , 1 and directs- 
our steps along it, guiding us by poverty, by affronts and 
dishonour, and rooting out of our hearts the desire of those 
goods which the world esteems, and from whence spring all 
troubles and vexations. In this manner the Cross, which to 
the Jews is a scandal , 2 and which the Gentiles considered 
foolishness, has been, to the chosen and elect of God, the 
virtue, the strength, and the wisdom of God. 

And as His Divine Majesty had decreed to manifest His 
greatness in the Cross, and to lead His chosen by this path, it 
was very meet that in like manner as in heaven He was great 
in Majesty, so on earth He should be great in patience; and 
that He Himself should be the first to take up His Cross in order 
that we all might follow Him, and that He alone should suffer 
a greater lack of the goods which the world esteems, and have 
a greater portion of the evils which the world abhors, than any 
other man; because, as our Captain, He was to go before us 
along this new road to eternal life which He had discovered to 
us. Hence it came, what cannot be thought of without wonder, 
that in less than four and twenty hours, during which the 
Passion lasted, there should have rained down upon our Lord 
so many sufferings of every kind, with such circumstances to 
make them worse that it does not seem possible that in the 
whole course of time any man can suffer any kind of trouble 
or adversity which our Saviour has not suffered in His own 
Person far more fully. For His poverty had reached such a 
point that He was without anything, since He had not even a 
bed in which to die, nor a piece of linen with which to cover 
Himself except what was given to Him as an alms; nor in the 
thirst and agony of death could He obtain any refreshment 
wherewith to alleviate His suffering except what His enemies 
chose to give Him, which was gall and vinegar. Finally, 
St. Paul says 3 that the extremest poverty consists in only having 
wherewith to cover the body and food to sustain it, without 
seeking anything else. But our Lord , 4 Who, being rich made 
Himself poor for our sakes, went still further. For He had not. 

1 St. Luke i. 79. 2 1 Cor. i. 23. 3 1 Tim. vi. 8. 4 2 Cor. viii. 9. 



Immense Humiliation. 


281 


wherewith to cover Himself or to appease His thirst; and even 
the poor clothing which during His life He wore, He could not 
leave on His death to whom He would, but He saw Himself 
despoiled of it, and the soldiers dividing it among themselves 
and casting lots upon it at their pleasure. 

The abandonment in which He was left by men was so 
great that it could be said in His own Person 5 —‘I looked 011 
My right hand and beheld, and there was no one that would 
know Me, for My acquaintance and friends fled far from Me, 
and held Me as an abominable thing.’ And this blow and fall 
were so much the greater in proportion as He fell from so lofty 
a height, so that it may be said of Him with more truth than of 
Job 6 —‘Thou hast lifted Me up and set Me as it were upon the 
Avind, and Thou hast mightily dashed Me.’ For, after having 
been esteemed as a saint, reverenced as a prophet, listened to 
as a great master and. preacher, followed by all the people with 
extraordinary concourse in the Temple and the synagogues, in 
the city and the desert, on land and on sea, having become 
illustrious through so many great and wonderful miracles, and 
having been valued and loved for the continual benefits which 
the people received at His hands—all this He suddenly changed 
for rejection, contempt, infamy, hatred, and abhorrence, as had 
been written of Him in their law , 7 that they hated Him without 
cause. Even His own countrymen had procured His death, 
with supreme injustice, and the Gentiles had inflicted it upon 
Him with supreme cruelty. The Priests and Scribes were as 
the leaven, by means of which the whole of the people were 
soured against the Lord. The princes blew and the multitude 
kindled such a flame that it could not be appeased by all those 
outrages and sufferings, nor were they content with seeing Him 
suspended from a cross, but, like ravening dogs, they tore Him, 
Whom they saw dying before them, to pieces with insults and 
reproaches. 

The feelings of the Jews and Gentiles, great and small, 
being thus manifestly declared against Him, no loyalty nor 
firmness did He find even in His own disciples who had 
5 Psalm cxli. 5. 6 xxx. 22. 7 St. John xv. 25. 



282 


The Sacred Passion. 


followed His school. Of His twelve chosen Apostles, one sold 
Him and became captain of those who went to take Him ; 
another, whom He had made first among them all, denied Him 
three times, uttering many curses whilst protesting that he did 
not know Him ; and the others forsook Him, leaving Him in 
the power of His enemies. O unheard of example of the 
inconstancy of human things, and of the constancy which ought 
to be maintained by the true Christian in the midst of them! 
What must not the blessed Heart of our Saviour have endured 
when He found Himself forsaken by His friends and surrounded 
by His enemies? He had already signified it many years before, 
by the Prophet who said 8 —‘ My Heart is become like wax, 
melting in the midst of My bowels.’ 

Only His divine Mother did not forsake Him; she alone 
bare Him company in His disgrace, when she could not aid or 
defend Him, but rather increased His sufferings intensely by 
her presence. His Eternal Father, Who could have done it, 
would not then help Him, but permitted Him to suffer with the 
utmost rigour, according to the pleasure of His enemies, and 
this our Blessed Lord felt very acutely, for His enemies cast it 
in His face, exclaiming—* He hoped in God, let Plim deliver 
Him and save Him, since He says that He desires God alone.’ 
But as God was not willing then to free Him, or to give any 
manifestation of His goodwill towards Him, He lovingly 
lamented it when He said—‘My God, My God, why hast Thou 
forsaken Me ? ’ 

But who shall say how severely and how greatly He suffered 
in His honour ? Pie felt His dishonour more keenly in propor¬ 
tion to the greater loftiness of His Soul, to the higher reputation 
and esteem He had obtained, and the greater reverence with 
which He had been treated. For it was when He was so highly 
reputed of and respected by the whole people, that the priests 
and magistrates dishonoured Him, sending to take Him in the 
country outside the city with armed force, as though He were 
a thief, and dragging Him in bonds along the most public 
streets of the city with violence and clamour. And yfiien the 
8 Psalm xxi. 15. 



Great Dishonour. 


283 


people saw Him dragged in this way, with so much disrespect 
and insult, they all (as is usually the case) thought that they 
had been deceived in the opinion they had entertained of 
Him, and in their anger at having done so much honour to 
an impostor, they endeavoured to undo their error by heaping 
upon Him new inventions in the way of injuries and affronts. 
Hence it was that some out of the multitude offered them¬ 
selves as witnesses of all the crimes which the High 
Priests chose to invent, and that they were able to make 
their charges according to their own will, full of falsities, and 
to bring Him so ignominously before all the judges who 
were then in Jerusalem, subjecting Him to jurisdiction of 
every kind, and presenting Him as a criminal before all the 
tribunals, only to leave each of them an object of mockery 
and outrage. 

Thus His dishonour had every imaginable characteristic of 
completeness. First, as regarded His own Person, for He was 
true God, and also, as Man, so esteemed and well known. 

Secondly, as regarded the persons who dishonoured Him. 
For the Scribes and the ancients, the Pontiffs and priests, the 
magistrates and the judges, were the persons most highly 
esteemed in learning and in religion, and of whom it was 
most difficult to presume either that they were ignorant 
of justice or that they wished to commit wrong and oppres¬ 
sion. These were they who after much deliberation and 
examination into the matter in their council declared Him to 
be a blasphemer and an impostor, and condemned Him to be 
worthy of death. And all the people entreated and con¬ 
strained the Governor by violence to sentence Him. Gentile 
soldiers, who knew not God, and the vilest and meanest of the 
people, were His executioners, laying their hands on Him and 
letting loose their tongues against Him, without any shame or 
courtesy. One of His own disciples sold Him, and another 
denied Him before His face, clearing himself of the disgrace of 
ever having known or been familiar with Him. If we consider 
well, all these circumstances aggravate His dishonour in regard 
of the persons who dishonoured Him. 




284 


The Sacred Passion. 


Thirdly, His dishonour was greater on account of the crimes 
of which they accused Him, namely, of blasphemy against God, 
and at the very least of having made Himself His Son and equal 
with Him • of being a traitor against the king, whose title and 
dignity He had usurped, and to whom He had forbidden that 
tribute should be paid • of being an impostor and a stirrer up 
of the people, a man who kept them in a state of tumult and 
excitement, gathering together a school and teaching a new and 
pernicious doctrine j wandering over the country, going about 
in villages and cities, not having any settled dwelling; also of 
being a wizard and an enchanter, who by means of false and 
seeming miracles, performed through the aid of the devil, 
dazzled the imagination of the people; of having offered to 
destroy the Temple and in three days to build it again without 
hands, by means of spells and enchantments; all which were 
crimes of the greatest and most odious kind, containing in 
themselves many others. All these the Priests and Scribes 
declared and particularized as well to the Governor Pilate as 
to King Herod, accusing Him with great violence, in answer 
to which He was silent, on which His silence was urged against 
Him as a sufficient proof of these most serious crimes before 
tribunals so unjust. 

Fourthly, His dishonour was increased by the treatment 
inflicted on Him, full of great suffering and ignominy, for He 
was apprehended at night in the country and with great tumult, 
then He was taken through the city in bonds and disgrace. 
The examination of His cause was conducted with violence, 
one of the servants of the High Priest insulting Him with 
words and giving Him a buffet on the face before his master 
and the Council of the Priests. Again, those who that night 
kept guard over Him, spent the whole of it in putting Him to 
dishonour, for they covered His eyes and spat in His face, and 
buffetted Him and laughed and mocked at Him as a false and 
lying prophet. Then He was dragged through the streets 
several times, from one tribunal to another. Herod dressed 
Him and jested at Him as a fool, and Pilate stripped Him 
naked in the praetorium, putting Him to the greatest shame 




Bodily Sufferings. 


285 


in order that He might be scourged as a thief. The cohort of 
Gentiles worshipped Him as a mock King, thrusting a crown 
upon His head, whilst the Jewish people refused to receive and 
acknowledge Him as a real King, and when He was put in 
competition with a seditious thief and a homicide, gave the 
murderer liberty and condemned the Author of life to be 
unworthy of life. They did not restrain their rage even when 
they saw Him naked, scourged, and crowned with thorns, and 
demanded with loud cries in His presence and before His eyes 
that He should be crucified. The judge condemned Him, and 
the death to which He was condemned being in itself most 
ignominious, it was rendered still more so by His being 
crucified in the company of two thieves and being placed in 
the midst as the most unworthy of all, and by His being made 
to bear the infamous wood of His Cross through the city, after 
which they nailed Him upon it naked, in the sight of all His 
friends and of strangers alike. And as though this were not 
sufficient, whilst He was in His agony, and suffering all the 
terrors of death, they addressed cruel words to Him, casting 
in His face the crimes He had not committed, and which they 
had imputed to Him. O Thou honourer and the honour of men ! 
what is this dishonour done to Thee for their sakes ? Thou alone 
art worthy to be honoured and exalted throughout all ages ! 

The sufferings of His body were such that it may well be 
be said of them, that from the sole of the foot to the crown of 
the head , 0 there was no sound part, but He was all one wound 10 
like a leper, no beauty or comeliness remaining in Him, no 
shape or form by which He could be recognized. His back 
laid bare, and His whole body marked with scourges; His 
shoulders bruised with the weight of the Cross; His chest 
disjointed and strained by being stretched thereupon; His head 
pierced with thorns, weak and worn out with sleeplessness from 
the night of misery which He had passed; His hair plucked 
out; His beard torn and rooted out, and His face disfigured 
with bufifetings; His veins devoid of blood; His mouth dry 
from thirst, and His tongue bitter with the taste of the gall and 
9 Isaias i. 6. 10 Ibid. liii. 4. 






286 


The Sacred Passion. 


vinegar; His legs and arms so stretched out that the bones 
might be counted; His hands and feet pierced through; His 
body suspended by them with nails to the wood, and His 
wounds opening because of its weight; His Heart afflicted and 
brought to the point of death by the intensity of His sorrow 
and anguish. 

For as God had willed to suffer, He was to suffer as a God, 
and both in what He suffered, and also in the manner and 
cause of His suffering, He showed clearly that He Who was 
thus suffering was more than man. For though reduced to 
such extreme poverty, forsaken by His friends and encompassed 
by His enemies, so dishonoured and so cast down, He did not 
yield nor show any weakness, nor He did not lose one iota of 
His dignity and majesty. On the contrary, He stretched forth 
His arms courageously, showing forth, as it were, the force of 
God, and sustaining the weight of that Cross which only He 
could sustain. Then, if we consider the cause for which He 
suffered, we shall find it was one which was very meet for Him, 
seeing that He suffered all this for justice and for truth, and to 
defend the honour of God and to accomplish the precept 
imposed on Him, allowing Himself to be despoiled of posses¬ 
sions and of the friendship of men, of fame and honour, and 
safety and life, in order that He might not fail in any point of 
His obedience. He suffered likewise for the public good of 
all men, present, past, and to come, offering Himself to His 
Father as a true holocaust, to be burnt up by the fire of that 
charity with which He loved God above all love, and desired 
His honour above all desire, and because of the love with 
which He loved all men, because His Father had committed 
into His hands their redemption and their ransom. And so 
abundant w T as this redemption made, that although one drop of 
His blood would have been sufficient for the redemption of 
a thousand worlds, He, for the excessive love He bore us, 
allowed His blood to be poured out so entirely, that we might 
not only be sprinkled but washed in it, ourselves and our 
garments. Wherefore the Apostle says , 11 ‘ He hath loved us, 

11 Apoc. i. 




Our Consolation. 


287 


and washed us from our sins in His own Bloodand in 
another place , 12 ‘ Blessed are they who wash their robes in the 
Blood of the Lamb.’ 

Thus our great Lover, suspended from the Cross, was 
providing us with a remedy, with an example, and with conso¬ 
lation. For it was a remedy to pay off our debts to the Eternal 
Father, and to satisfy the Divine Justice for our misdeeds, and 
to enrich our poverty with the treasure of His merits, and to 
arm our weakness with the virtue of His Cross, in order that, 
He having 13 suffered Himself in His sacred Flesh, we should 
arm ourselves with the same thought in our temptations, and 
with the memory of His Passion. 

It was a great consolation and example for men that our 
Lord allowed Himself to be tempted and tried 14 so generally 
in every kind of travail, that He might better know how to 
compassionate us in ours. And it was great wisdom and a 
very loving device of Providence, to have collected together in 
His Passion all the kinds of adversity which men on all occa¬ 
sions whatever, and at all times whatever, might have to 
undergo. It was the deed of a very faithful friend, and no less 
of a very courageous captain, thus to plunge Himself (as had 
been written of Him ) 15 into the depths of the sea —Vent in 
altitudmem mavis —and to wait until all the waves and tempests 
which could be raised thereon had broken themselves upon 
Him, as He says in another part , 16 Et omnes flnctus tuos induxisti 
super me —‘ All Thy waves Thou hast brought in upon Me,’ in 
order that Fie might leave, marked with His footsteps and His 
example, the royal road, through the midst of the waters—that 
is, through tribulation —by which His people might pass on 
joyfully, and His enemies, who are the lovers of this world, 
might sink like lead and be drowned in the mighty waters . 17 
I mean that the worldly can derive only sorrow from poverty, 
impatience from infirmities, and despair from dishonour. But 
our Lord has taught His chosen to gain riches through 
poverty, peace through sorrows, true honour and glory through 

12 Apoc. xxii. 14. 13 i Peter iv. 1. 14 Heb. iv. 15. 

15 Psalm lxviii. 3. 16 Ibid, lxxxvii. 8. 17 Exodus xv. 10. 




288 


The Sacred Passion. 


dishonour, and by means of death He has made known to 
them the way of life . 18 He stretched forth His hands on the 
Cross, and His enemies were swallowed up and submerged 
beneath the earth. He was the Guide and Captain of His 
redeemed people, and with the strength which He derived 
from suffering He sustained them, and bore them upon His 
shoulders to the eternal dwellings of glory, according as it is 
written , 19 Extendisti manum tuam et devoravit eos terra: dux 
fuisti in misericordia tua populo quem redemisti, et portasti eum 
in fortitudine tua ad habitaculum sanctum tuum — 1 Thou didst 
stretch forth Thy hand, and the earth devoured them, Thou 
didst lead Thy people in mercy whom Thou hast redeemed, 
and bear them in Thy strength under Thy holy dwelling place.’ 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

What the sight of Jesus Christ crucified wrought on the 
Eternal Father. 

The Eternal Father beheld this spectacle, so wonderful in 
every way, and so worthy of His eyes; and if we are to speak 
of so sublime and secret a mystery in the language of men, no 
words can describe the joy and exultation which He felt on 
beholding the great deeds wrought by His most loving Son 
upon the Cross, and which were all for the greater glory and 
the manifestation of His holiness. If a human father rejoices 
when he sees his son come forth armed for the combat, seated 
firmly upon his steed, with courage and noble bearing, ex¬ 
hibiting neither weakness nor ungracefulness, and then beholds 
him rout his enemies, and subdue and trample them under foot 
gloriously, and especially if he has entered on the quarrel on 
18 Psalm xv. II. 19 Exodus xv. 12. 




The One Sacrifice. 


289 


account of the insults offered to his father, and in order to 
satisfy his honour, what must have been the complacency of 
the Eternal Father at the sight of His most beloved and 
obedient Son to see Him so well set on the Cross, showing 
no sign of weakness or impatience, suffering with so much 
meekness, offering Himself with such charity, inspiring His 
opponents with terror through His courage and valour, reveng¬ 
ing the insults offered to His Father, satisfying His honour, 
and making a great exhibition of the justice and mercy of God 
and a manifestation of His glory and sanctity ? 

Again, if the smoke of the ancient sacrifices, in which the 
flesh of animals consumed with material fire was accepted by 
God in the odour of sanctity, how acceptable to Him must this 
sacrifice have been, in which the Priest was His most beloved 
Son, true Man and true God, offering Himself on the altar of 
the Cross as a living and acceptable sacrifice, shedding all His 
Blood as the price and purification of our sins; where also 
His Body was consumed in the fire of suffering, and His 
Heart in the fire of charity ? God was doubtless so satisfied 
with this payment, and so honoured by this sacrifice, that 
He began from that moment to take no pleasure in the old 
sacrifices of the Law, which had only pleased Him in so far 
as they had been the representation and shadow of this new 
sacrifice. 

This is that sacrifice, which being offered once only, was 
sufficient for all men and for all ages, without there being need 
of any other. For by this sacrifice alone was the anger of 
God appeased, His justice satisfied, sins pardoned, the world 
reconciled, and the gifts of grace and glory earned for man. 
And as God promised to Noe, that when it rained abundantly 
he should behold His rainbow (which He had placed in the 
clouds in token of His friendship for man), so that the earth 
should not again be destroyed by water, so, much more, God 
beholding His Son suspended on the Cross, with His hands 
stretched out like a bow, takes from out the bow of His anger 
the arrows which He had been ready to shoot, and in place of 
chastisements gives embraces, more forced and conquered by 

T 




290 


The Sacred Passion. 


this powerful Bow, which is Christ, to show mercy, than irritated 
by our sins to take vengeanfce for them. 

For , 1 as the reason why Christ loved man is not man, but 
God, so likewise the reason why God has promised so many 
good things to man is not man himself, but Christ our Redeemer. 
Again, the reason why the Son loves us, is because His Father 
commanded Him to do so, and the reason why the Father 
looks on us with favour, is because His Son has entreated it 
and merited it. These are those supercelestial planets, by 
whose marvellous aspect the Church is governed, and by which 
all the influences of grace are sent down upon the world. 

How strong are the cords of the love which God bears us! 
and not less strong is the hope which we have in Him. Thou 
lovest us, good Jesus, because Thy Father commandeth Thee, 
and Thy Father pardons us, because Thou dost entreat Him. 
Through Thy observance of His will and commandment, it 
comes that Thou lovest me, because Thy obedience requires it 
of Thee, and through His beholding Thy sufferings and Thy 
wounds come to me pardon and salvation, because so Thy 
merits require. Look one on the other ever, O Father and 
Son, look on one another without ceasing, because thus my 
salvation is secured ! O look of power above nature, O aspect 
of Divine stars, whence proceed so certainly the rays of Divine 
grace ! When will such a Son disobey ? When will such a Father 
cease to regard His Son ? And if the Son obeys, whom will 
He not love ? And if the Father looks on His Son, who shall 
not be pardoned ? Let us then with humble reverence say to 
Him, whilst presenting to Him His beloved Son, nailed for our 
sakes upon the Cross, Protector noster aspice Pens, et respice in 
faciem Christi tui —‘Look upon us, God our Protector, and 
regard the face of Thy Christ.’ 


1 M. Avila, Trat. del Amor de Dios. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 


The first word which our Saviour spoke on the Cross . 

JESUS AUTEM DICEBAT : PATER, DIMITTE ILLIS, NON ENIM 
SCIUNT QUID FACIUNT . 1 

Our Lord availed Himself of the satisfaction felt by the 
Eternal Father in the sacrifice offered to Him by His Son 
upon the Cross, in order to show favour to men, and not only 
to the just but to sinners, and not to any indifferent persons, but 
to those who were actually committing a great and horrible 
crime; and not those alone who had compassion on Him, but 
those who abhorred Him without a cause, and were doing Him 
grievous injury and cruelly tormenting Him. For our most 
merciful Lord cared for the welfare of those who were doing 
Him evil, and burnt with thirst for the salvation of those who 
were thirsting for His blood, and who would not be satisfied 
until they had seen it all drained upon the Cross. For this 
cause, it vvas meet that while hanging thereon our Saviour 
should publicly pray for those who had crucified Him, that 
no one should be so perverse as to consider himself excluded 
from the redemption purchased by His Blood, and from the 
power and merits of His prayer. 

Having now no member whole, excepting His tongue, 
which through deadly fatigue and the loss of blood was parched 
up and filled with a bitter taste from the gall which had been 
given Him, our Saviour made His petition therewith, and 
prayed the Eternal Father that He would pardon the sinners 
who had brought Him in so great a strait. By this our Lord 
showed that the perdition of these wretched men gave Him 
more pain than all His bodily torments, since, caring not for 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 34. 


T 2 




292 


The Sacred Passion . 


Himself He cared for them, and forgetful of Himself He had 
them in remembrance, and asking no alleviation or remedy for 
Himself, He asked it for them. For, no sooner had He been 
left upon the Cross in sight of all the people, His arms strained, 
and He hanging by the three nails to the holy wood, than, 
caring nothing for the cruel torments He was undergoing, the 
first thing He did and the first care He showed, was to appease 
the anger of His Father, which had been kindled against the 
perfidious Jews because of the immense sufferings of His most 
loving Son. Such, indeed, was it meet our great High Priest 
should be, and so burning His charity; such the sacrifice which 
He offered upon the altar of the Cross, and so inestimable its 
power, that it embraced even His enemies, and obtained 
pardon for the very sin committed in crucifying Him. And 
in order to conquer evil with good, in proportion as they 
multiplied and repeated their outrages He multiplied His 
prayer, for He must have repeated it many times, since the 
Evangelist who recounts it does not write only that He said 
these words, but that He kept on saying them. Jesus autem 
dicebat: Pater , dimitte illis , non enim sciunt quid faciunt — 
‘ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ 

Of a truth, if our Saviour was admirable in His great silence 
during His Passion, never attempting to defend Himself, He 
was not less admirable in what He now spoke to excuse His 
enemies. For our great Advocate represented to His Eternal 
Father in a few words, in favour of those sinners, all the motives 
which would be of any avail to obtain pardon for them, alleging 
their ignorance, and the merit and dignity of Him Who prayed 
for them. ‘Father,’ He said, ‘for verily Thou art My true 
Father, and I am Thy true Son, I know the love Thou bearest 
Me, and Thou seest the reverence and obedience I have for 
Thee, since for that only am I hanging in agony on this Cross. 
It is not just that such a Father should, on such an occasion, 
deny any petition made to Him by His Son, and for this it 
is that I now desire to avail Myself of Thy name of Father, and 
of My title of Son, and of the Blood that I am shedding, and 
of the death agony in which I am. My Father, that which I 



‘ ‘ Father , forgive them ! ’’ 


293 


■entreat of Thee is that Thou pardon them this their sin. They 
are taking My life away unjustly, and Thou as My Father 
mayest require My death at their hands, and as a just Judge 
Thou mayest take vengeance of them for it. But I, for My 
phrt, pardon them, and I pray and entreat of Thee that Thou 
likewise wilt pardon them, and, since I desire to have them 
as my brothers, let them be looked upon and adopted by Thee 
as sons. Let the value of My Blood be seen now, in the case 
of the very men who shed it, and now that the time hast come 
when Thou dost behold Thy Son hanging on a Cross, so like¬ 
wise the time has come for Thee to pardon and to show mercy. 

1 Pardon them, O Father, since, although their sin is most 
grievous and horrible, after all they are blind and ignorant men, 
some of them carried away by passion, and others deceived, 
and all of them but too little attentive and considerate 
to know how to weigh as they ought the malice of their sin. 
Their chiefs and priests have blinded themselves in the midst 
of light, and they have not desired to know the truth as to Who 
I was, although I proved it to them by evident signs; and not 
only so, but they have perverted and deceived the people, 
causing them to deny Me, and require and bring about My 
death. I suffer for them with goodwill. But if this, My 
Father, can in any measure diminish the injury which has been 
done to Thee, they have not known me to be Thy Son, all the 
more obedient to Thee in proportion as they are more cruel 
towards Me. For this, then, I entreat of Thee that Thou wilt 
not consider that they are killing Me, but only that I am dying 
for them; and since I am dying for them, let them not die 
because they put Me to death’— Pater , dimitte Mis, 11071 enim 
sciunt quid faciunt. 

He Who prayed in this manner to His Father with a loud 
voice, so that all might hear Him, asked the same of His holy 
Mother 2 who was present near Him, speaking to her in the 
secret of her heart. And when she heard the prayer uttered by 
her Son in the agonies of death, her loving heart was inex¬ 
pressibly moved, and her soul was sublimely enlightened and 
2 Bonav. in St mi. Div. Amor. 



The Sacred Passion. 


294 


instructed by means thereof. And although as a true mother 
it would have been her part to have asked for vengeance on 
His death, yet, knowing the will and the charity of her Son, 
she embraced, with all the strength imparted to her by the 
Holy Spirit, those perverse sinners and cruel persecutors with 
the love of a true mother, and joining her prayer with that of 
her Son, lovingly entreated the Eternal Father to pardon them. 
And through such mediators as these God showed mercy to 
many who were there present , 3 and who believed immediately 
in the Lord, whilst others after His death, moved by the 
miracles which took place , 4 were converted to God, striking 
their breasts, and many thousands 5 of others were converted 
by the preaching of the Apostles, after our Lord had ascended 
into heaven. 

3 Glos. ordin. in illud Isaiae, liii. Etpro transgressoribus rogavit. 

4 St. Luke xxiii. 48. 5 Acts iv. 4. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 


The second word which our Saviour spoke on the Cross. 

ET DIXIT ILLI JESUS : AMEN, DICO TIBI, HODIE MECUM 
ERIS IN PARADISO . 1 

Amongst those on whom the prayer of our Saviour produced 
an effect was one of the two thieves who were crucified with 
Him, and who must been Jews by birth, since from the blas¬ 
phemy of the one and the confession of the other, it seems that 
they had some idea of the Kingdom of Christ and of the Messias 
Whom they were expecting. So it was, that to such a pass had 
the outrages offered to our Lord and the abandonment in which 
He was plunged arrived, that not only did the Chief Priests 
who had placed Him there and the rest of the multitude who 
were looking on , 2 but even the very thieves themselves, fastened 
as they were to their crosses, blaspheme Him. So far was it 
that the Son of God humbled Himself for our sakes, that the 
thieves, vile and wretched men as they were, exposed to public 
infamy, and receiving the penalty due to their crimes, at the 
time when their own sufferings ought to have made them more 
compassionate, and when shame for their crimes ought to 
have kept them mute, were filled, they also, with a demoniacal 
and shameless fury, wounding Him very deeply with their 
insults and blasphemies. 

For the one, being impatient beneath the torment which was 
his due, and hearing what the Chief Priests and Scribes said, 
that if He were the Son of God and the King of Israel, as He 
said, let Him come down from the Cross and save Himself, 
learnt from them the same blasphemy, adding moreover to it 
by saying that, if what He had declared were true, He ought 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 43. 2 St. Matt, xxvii. 44. 


296 


The Sacred Passion. 


not only to free Himself but them also, since they were com¬ 
panions in torment ‘If Thou art the Christ ,’ 3 he said, ‘save 
Thyself and us; but because Thou art not (so he would say), 
Thou dost suffer and we likewise. For if Thou wert, what better 
opportunity than this couldst Thou desire to prove it by Thy 
works ? And on whom would it be more reasonable to show 
Thy power than on those who suffer in Thy company ? If Thy 
enemies have desired to do Thee dishonour by making Thee a 
companion of thieves in their punishment, Thou (if Thou wert 
what Thou sayest) shouldst revenge Thyself upon them by 
making those thieves companions of Thy glory. But as it is 
our misfortune to suffer in the company of a liar and an 
impostor, therefore there is no alleviation or remedy for our 
punishment.’ In this manner that thief charged our Saviour, 
and not his own crimes, with the torments which he was suffer¬ 
ing, and this is what is commonly done by blasphemers, who, 
not considering the crimes which have brought misery upon 
them, audaciously complain of God because He does not set 
them free. 

But the other thief, who, with eyes enlightened by God, was 
contemplating that sight, the fountain of all grace and sanctity, 
considering the profound patience and gentleness of the Lord 
Who was suffering, and the charity with which He prayed for 
His enemies, being also himself interiorly moved by the Divine 
Spirit, came to understand, not only that He was innocent, but 
that He was King indeed, and that, for His own glory and the 
confusion of His enemies, He was able to free the thieves from 
their torment and make them participators of His Kingdom and 
of His glory, although not in the manner that the other thief, 
his companion, blasphemously imagined. Therefore he reproved 
him and corrected him even from the cross, saying 4 —‘ Neither 
dost thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation ? 
And we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our 
deeds, but this Man—what evil hath He done ? ’ 

It was as though he had said—‘It is marvellous that the 
blindness of the Priests and Scribes should be such as to 
3 St. Luke xxiii. 39. 4 Hid. 40. 



The good Thief. 


297 


prevent them from seeing the innocence of this holy Lamb, 
Who is suffering so unjustly, and that their passion should be 
so hot and their fury so outrageous that, beholding Him suffer¬ 
ing such agony, they add to His tortures instead of pitying 
Him, and wound Him still more with their tongues. It is 
marvellous that Pilate, free as He is from passion, and being 
acquainted with the truth, should have permitted himself to 
yield to injustice, which is a clear and evident proof that both 
he and they have lost all sense of shame and of the fear of 
God. But, after all, the Governor permitted himself to be 
conquered by the human fear of losing the favour and friendship 
of Caesar, which he desired to preserve for his own ambitious 
ends. The priests, full of ambition and covetousness, have 
persistently followed out their design of removing from before 
their eyes Him Whom they looked upon as opposed to their 
honour and interest. Both one and the other, like people who 
are at ease and who are not acquainted with suffering, feel 
nothing for those who are in the midst of it. But worst of all, 
and a thing which cannot in any way be excused, is it that even 
thou hast no fear of God. For it is much more criminal in thee 
to be devoid of it, seeing that neither does the disgrace to 
which thou art exposed humiliate thee, nor does the pain which 
thou sufferest tame thee, nor the death which thou art awaiting 
open thine eyes. On the contrary, being, as thou art, a 
condemned criminal, thou showest thyself as insolent as the 
accusers and the judges themselves, and feelest as little com¬ 
passion as though thou wert not participating in the torment, 
being all the time His fellow and companion in the same 
sentence and condemnation.’ 

l Et nos quidem juste , etc. We are justly condemned, for 
we receive the payment due to our sins, whereas this Man has 
done nothing which was not worthy of a great and holy 
prophet. And if it be sufficient to move the heart to see a 
man suffer even when he is guilty, and if thou and I, who are 
here for our crimes, ask of those who are men like ourselves, 
that at least they would show us compassion, how much greater 
reason there is that we, men like Him, and tormented as He is, 



298 


The Sacred Passion . 


and who are guilty, whilst He is not, should feel compassion 
and sympathy for Him in His torments ? ’ In this manner, our 
Saviour, being on the Cross, enlightened one thief in order to 
win him, and provided the other, that he might not be lost, 
with a teacher to reprove and teach him, one who might most 
properly do this, being, as he was, his own companion. 

Then this blessed thief, after having thus acknowledged and 
confessed his sins, having accepted his cross with humility and 
patience as a deserved chastisement for them, and having 
reproached his companion for his blasphemy and proclaimed 
the innocence and sanctity of our Saviour, turned to Him, and 
in humble prayer said , 5 ‘Lord, remember me when Thou 
comest into Thy Kingdom.’ This was a modest petition and 
a wonderful confession, for he confessed Him as King, and 
believed that He would rise again, and that He was to come 
in glory in the majesty of His Kingdom; he also looked on 
Him as God, seeing that he called Him Lord, and begged 
Him to remember him, not for anything belonging to this 
present life, for he was on the point of losing it, but only that 
He would pardon his sins. 

Now if we consider the time and circumstances in which 
he believed and confessed these truths, the power of celestial 
grace is still more clearly revealed. He saw our Lord suffering 
like himself, and that the Priests and Scribes reviled Him even 
more than they reviled himself; there was, therefore, good 
reason that he should think that His crimes were as great, or 
greater, than his own. And as St. Leo says , 6 Quce istam fidem 
exhortatio persuasit ? Quce doctrina imbuit ? Quis prcedicatoi' 
accendit ? Non viderat prius acta miracula; cessaverat tunc 
languentium curatio, ccecorum illwninatio, vivificatio mortuorum ; 
ea ipsa, quce mox erant gerenda, non aderant; et tamen Dominum 
conjitetur, et Regem, quem vidit supplicii sui esse consortem. 
4 What exhortation,’ says St. Leo, 4 implanted this faith in 
him ? What teaching instructed him ? What preacher aroused 
him? He had not beheld the miracles which had been 
wrought at an earlier time, the curing of the sick had ceased, 
5 St. Luke xxiii. 42. 6 St. Leo, De Pass. 



The Thief's Prayer . 


299 


the enlightening of the blind, and the raising of the dead. 
The miracles which were to take place afterwards had not as 
yet been done, the darkening of the sun, the breaking of the 
rocks, and the opening of the sepulchres—yet spite of all this, he 
confessed as his King and his Lord Him Who was companion 
in his suffering.’ So speaks St. Leo. 

But our Lord Himself, Who, since He has ascended to 
heaven, has revealed to so many the excellences of the Cross, 
revealed them to the thief whilst He was yet hanging upon 
it, and therefore it w r as he said—‘ Lord, remember me when 
Thou shalt come into Thy Kingdom. It may indeed be, Lord, 
and I know, that although Thou art Lord of all the world,. 
Thy Kingdom is not of this world, nor do I entreat of Thee 
anything belonging to this world, I being on one cross, and 
Thou on another, both of us being as it were already out of 
the world. And even if I had not merited this cross for my 
crimes, and if I had in my hand all the riches and possessions 
of the world, I would leave all freely, and would before all 
things choose this cross on which I am, in order to be Thy 
companion. I only long after and love the glory and blessed¬ 
ness of Thy Kingdom which Thou hast revealed to me. And 
if Thou, Lord, whilst Thou art in this world hast taken upon 
Thee so large a share in the punishment of my sins, it is not 
much that when I leave it I should also have some portion of 
the reward of Thy merits. I do not ask of Thee the highest 
place, nor Thy right hand or left in Thy glory, I shall consider 
myself as more highly favoured in that Thou hast placed me 
at the right hand of Thy Cross, and this gives me some little 
boldness to entreat of Thee that when Thou comest into Thy 
Kingdom, Thou wilt at least bear me in remembrance.’ 

Our Lord received joyfully, in the midst of the many blas¬ 
phemies of the priests, the confession and witness of a thief, and 
inasmuch as he knew that our Lord, although He was hidden 
and concealed, was the true King of that people, of all men,, 
and of all ages, and so, proclaimed Him and asked of Him 
gifts as of a King, so as a King, our Lord granted them to him, 
and much greater gifts than he had asked for. Rejoiced to see 



The Sacred Passion. 


300 


already the fruit of His Blood and this beginning of the con¬ 
version of sinners, and a pattern for the humble confession of 
true penitents, our Lord, Who besides being King was likewise 
High Priest, absolved the thief there on the cross, giving him a 
plenary indulgence for all his sins, so that on that same day he 
might enter into the joy of Paradise with Him. Making a 
throne of His Cross, and a seat of justice and authority of the 
wounds by which He was hanging, and of the nails by which 
He was fastened, He satisfied the petition of the thief with the 
liberality and magnificence of a King, saying to him—‘Amen, 
I say to thee, this day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.’ 
Such indeed was it right should the throne of His clemency 
be, and that thus He should despatch the petitions of sinners ! 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The sun is eclipsed and darkness is over all the earth. 

Our Saviour had now hung upon the Cross for the space of 
about half an hour, naked, and exposed to public shame and 
insult, in the sight of heaven and earth, and beneath the light 
of midday, blasphemed by all those who had gathered together 
to the spectacle, and by the very thieves who were suffering 
with Him. Then it was that the Eternal Father willed to give 
from heaven a testimony, by means of wonderful and terrible 
signs, as to Who it was Who was dying thus. This was done 
by the manifestation of feeling on the part of the chief of created 
things in the world, weeping, as it were and clothing themselves 
in mourning for the death of their common Lord. First, the sun . 
which, at the commandment of the Father , 1 rises day by day 
upon the good and bad alike, abominating this iniquity above 
1 St. Matt. v. 45. 




The great Darkness. 


30 1 


all others that had ever been committed in the world, turned 
away its eyes and covered its face that it might not see it, and, 
chastising those who were the authors of it, hid its rays from them 
that they might not enjoy them, and clothed itself with darkness 
at noon, the very hour when its splendour is greatest, thereby 
to signify the darkness in which until then the Jews had lived, 
and the blindness in which they were at that time, in the midst 
of the light of so many marvels. This obscurity likewise was a 
threat of wrath and punishment such as their crime merited, 
our Lord being about to take away from them the light of His 
favours and mercies, and to throw them into such affliction and 
trouble that they should behold (as men say) the stars at 
midday. 

The sun, showing itself on the one hand so indignant against 
the mob of the Jews, who had brought about the death of 
our Lord, on the other hand did all it could to serve its Maker 
on this occasion. For it arrayed itself in mourning for His 
death, and covered His nakedness with a veil of darkness; it 
hindered those who were gazing on Him from seeing Him, it put 
a bridle on the tongue of those who were blaspheming Him, it 
afforded matter for astonishment to the whole world, and made 
men seek to find the cause of so new and unusual an event. 
So, at the sixth hour or later, more or less , 2 that is to say, after 
the hour which, according to our reckoning, is midday, the 
moon being in opposition to the sun, and distant from it the 
whole width of the sky, turned swiftly back on its course and 
placed itself before the sun, so as to impede its light , 3 and the 
sun was thereby obscured and darkness covered the whole 
earth. What other more remarkable sign from heaven 4 could 
the Jews have required to remove their incredulity, when two 
such splendid globes, the eyes of the world and lights of the 
universe, underwent so new a change, so suddenly and so 
swiftly, and so entirely beyond the ordinary course of nature ? 
For since an eclipse of the sun can never occur except when 
the moon places itself between the sun and the earth, and thus 
prevents its rays from shining upon the latter, such an eclipse 
2 St. Mark xv. 33 ; St. Luke xxiii. 44. 3 Ibid. 45. 4 St. Mark viii. 11. 



The Sacred Passion. 


.302 


can never take place except when the sun and moon are in 
conjunction. And as the body of the moon is less than that of 
the sun and than that of the earth, therefore, when it places 
itself between the one and the other, it does not cover the 
whole of the sun nor obscure the whole of the earth. On this 
occasion, however, the reverse of all this took place. For the 
moon was full, and so in opposition, and thus it was necessary 
that it should return upon its path in order to place itself in 
front of the sun, and, although its ordinary movement is very 
rapid, its takes four and twenty hours to pass round the heavens. 
Whereas on this occasion, being in opposition to the sun, and 
-on the contrary side of the heavens, suddenly, and with a 
movement swifter and more precipitate than can be imagined, 
it placed itself before the sun, and when there, though so much 
smaller a body than the sun, it entirely obscured it, and spread 
darkness over the whole earth. 

Who then is this Lord, Who thus commands the heavens 
and governs the planets, and holds in His hands the reins by 
which He directs their movements ? Who is this Lord, Whom 
the stars obey, and serve with their light, and honour Him by 
their darkness? Doubtless, this new marvel, by which the 
•complicated system of the universe was disarranged and put 
out, could not proceed from any other cause, excepting one of 
the two attributed to it by the great Dionysius the Areopagite. 
For, before his conversion, and when he was nothing but a 
heathen philosopher, being at Athens at the time when our 
Saviour was suffering, and being astonished at this strange 
occurrence in the sun, and at the new movements of the moon, 
he said, 1 Either the machine of the world is perishing, or the 
Creator of the universe is suffering.’ 

This darkness lasted from the sixth hour to the ninth hour, 
that is to say, the whole time that our Saviour remained alive 
upon the Cross. Nor was it without much reason, that on this 
occasion the whole earth should be darkened, for there was 
nothing in it worthy of being beheld, excepting only that work 
of the Lord, by which He was accomplishing salvation in the 
midst of the earth. Dens autem Rex noster ante scecula operatns 



Our Lady by the Cross. 


303 


est salutem in medio terra? By means of this darkness, the 
holy mountain became a celestial oratory, affording matter for 
meditation in that holy and living Crucifix suspended there. 
The windows of heaven closed themselves in this guise, that 
the just, entering like Moses into this cloud and darkness, and 
shutting their eyes to all visible things, might receive in their 
souls spiritual light, so as to see, taste, and penetrate, what in 
so great a mystery is invisible to the eyes of the body. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

The Blessed Virgin , our Lady , stands with great fortitude 
at the foot of the Cross . 

The Blessed Virgin, our Lady, with some holy and devout 
women who accompanied her, and other of the disciples and 
followers of our Lord, followed Him to Calvary. Having 
arrived there , 1 they stood at some distance, yet in a place 
where they could see all that took place. For the tumult of 
the people, the crowds that were gathered together, and the 
fury of those who were engaged in the work, the blasphemies 
and insults, the exclamations and evil words which rose on all 
sides, prevented them from approaching any nearer. But, as 
soon as the sentence had been executed, and when the 
Innocent and the malefactors together had been suspended 
from their crosses, when the angry priests and furious people 
had vomited forth their venom, and had wearied themselves of 
uttering insults and blasphemies, above all when, through the 
fears and astonishment which the darkness had occasioned, the 
multitude began to become quiet and to withdraw, and so to 

5 Psalm lxxiii. 12. 

1 St. Mark xv. 40; St. Luke xxiii. 49. 




304 


The Sacred Passion. 


give room for others to come and go, then the Blessed Virgin, 
seizing the occasion, and encouraged moreover by the darkness 
in which the sun enshrouded itself (for it would seem that it 
obscured itself in order to favour her virginal modesty in a 
place so public and open), but strengthened still more by the 
Holy Spirit Who guided her, approached the Cross to seek her 
heart, which was there nailed upon it. 

There went in her company some devout and pious women, 
worthy of a truth to be praised and commended by the Evan¬ 
gelists , 2 because with manly courage they had been present at 
the death of our Lord, when the Apostles, conquered by fear, 
had fled and been scattered; and because also they had come 
from Galilee, leaving their houses and their lands, to follow our 
Saviour, and serve and succour Him of their substance with 
everything that was requisite. Amongst them, were three who 
were well known, either because of their diligence and con¬ 
stancy in serving our Lord, or because of their kindred with 
Him. Or, again, because some of them had sons amongst the 
Apostles. For these several causes they were more familiar with 
our Lord, and more intimate with His most holy Mother, and 
they afterwards accompanied our Lord to His burial , 3 and 
hardly when He had been laid in the sepulchre did they leave 
Him. These women were Mary Magdalene, sister of Lazarus 
and of Martha, and another Mary, the wife of Cleophas, sur- 
named Alpheus, whom St. John calls 4 the sister of the Blessed 
Virgin our Lady, either because she was truly so, or because 
they had married, as some think, two brothers, St. Joseph and 
Cleophas, the husband of this Mary, who was the mother of 
St. James, termed the brother of our Lord 5 because of his 
likeness to Him, and called also James the Less , 6 because of 
his being younger than the other James; he was likewise named 
Alpheus 7 from his father. This Mary was also the mother of 
Joseph , 8 whom some believe to have been that just man who 
was afterwards proposed together with St. Matthias to the 


2 St. Matt, xxvii. 55. 

4 St. John xix. 25. 5 Gal. i. 19. 

7 St. Matt. x. 3. 


6 St. Mark xv. 40. 
St. Mark xv. 40. 


3 Ibid. 61. 



Fortitude of our Lady. 


305 


Apostolate . 9 It is said, moreover, that she was the mother 
of Simon the Canaanite and Judas Thaddeus. According to 
this account, this venerable matron and sister of the Virgin 
had three sons Apostles, and the fourth was a just man, and 
on this account had the name of just given to him and was 
proposed as one for whom lots were to be cast for the 
Apostolate. All these were called brothers of our Lord , 10 
on account of the near relationship which they had with Him. 
Together with Mary Magdalene and Mary of Cleophas, the 
Blessed Virgin had also as companion the wife of Zebedee , 11 
the mother of St. James and of St. John the Evangelist, called 
Salome , 12 who was also called the sister of the Blessed Virgin. 
When our Lord was in Galilee, these holy and pious women 
followed and served Him in person and with their goods, and 
knowing that the time had arrived when He would have to die 
(as He had Himself declared), they came with Him from 
Galilee to Jerusalem, their hearts not permitting them to be 
absent on such an occasion. For this cause they would not 
leave the Blessed Virgin, but accompanied her to that place 
of terrible shame, and on that day of bitterness and grief. 

Stabant autem 13 juxta crucem Jesn mater ejus et soror matris 
ejus , Maria Cleophce, et Maria Magdalene — £ There stood, then, 
by the Cross of Jesus, His Mother, and His Mother’s sister, 
Mary of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene,’ and not only did she 
remain near the Cross beholding with her loving eyes the 
wounds of her Son, but she even stood upright. O courageous 
soul! O wonderful constancy of a Mother so like unto her Son! 
The Son was dying, and the Mother feared not death; the Son 
was stretched upon the Cross, and the Mother was standing close 
beside it; the Son suffered, and the Mother offered herself man¬ 
fully to the persecutors; the Son gave His life for the salvation 
of the world, and the Mother was ready to give hers likewise, if 
it were necessary. The world was turned upside down, the earth 
trembled, the pillars of heaven were shaken, and the Blessed 
Virgin stood quiet and calm in her place. The rocks fell to 

9 Acts i. 23. 10 St. Matt. xiii. 55. 11 Ibid, xxvii. 56. 

12 St. Mark xv. 40. 13 St. John xix. 25. 

U 



The Sacred Passion. 


306 


pieces, and the heart of the Mother was not broken; the winds 
roared, and the waves rose up to heaven, and the bark of the 
Blessed Virgin, governed by the Holy Spirit, proceeded on its 
way without swerving a point from the will of God. 

Nevertheless, with all this uniformity of will, what under¬ 
standing can comprehend, or what tongue declare the tears 
and grief, the groans and convulsions of heart which the 
Blessed Mother must have endured in seeing her sweetest Son 
suffering torment so great and immense and shameful? For 
the measure of her love was also the measure of her grief, and 
what the love of her heart was, such was also her anguish, and 
so, as it is impossible rightly to understand the love which the 
Blessed Virgin had for her Son, so also cannot be understood 
the agony which the sight of His sufferings occasioned her. 

She loved Him as one friend loves another, because of 
the long intercourse and the sweet communion she had held 
with Him. She loved Him as a disciple loves his master, 
for His sublime teaching which, with so extraordinary an 
illumination of mind, she had received from Him. She 
loved Him as her Benefactor and her Lord for the many and 
great benefits which she had received from Him. Hence 
sprang the reverence with which she was wont to stand 
before Him without daring to raise her eyes from the ground 
in His presence. Nevertheless, on this day, standing at the 
foot of the Cross, love constrained her to gaze on what she 
could not look at without the bitterest grief. She raised her 
eyes to behold Him, and so great was the agony which she 
then underwent, that as quickly as she raised them she lowered 
them again, that she might assuage the anguish of her heart. 

She loved Him likewise as a mother loves her only son. 
If even wild beasts permit themselves to be cut into pieces, 
and are ready to face every danger in order to set free their 
young, what must not the natural love of such a Mother have 
wrought in her loving heart when she beheld such a Son in so 
great extremity? For all mothers naturally find some comfort 
in caressing and fondling those to whom they have given birth, 
and in defending them and resisting and doing battle with any 



Our Lady’s Love. 


307 


who attempt to hurt them, and they set themselves as a wall to 
receive blows and death for those to whom they have given 
life. What were, then, thy feelings, O Lady, when by the 
Cross thou didst behold thy beloved Son so shamefully mal¬ 
treated, and yet thou couldst not succour Him? Thou didst 
see Him naked, and thou couldst not cover Him; parched with 
thirst, and thou couldst not give Him to drink; outraged, and 
thou couldst not defend Him; treated as a malefactor, and 
thou couldst not speak in His defence; His face spat upon, 
and thou couldst not cleanse it; the tears running down from 
His eyes, and thou couldst not wipe them away, nor receive 
that last breath which came from His sacred breast, or lay 
thy face against those beloved and familiar features, and die 
embracing Him. 

Above all, the Blessed Virgin loved her Son as her God 
and her Creator, as her Redeemer and Sanctifier; and this not 
remissly and lukewarmly (as often happens with the love of 
ordinary mothers), but with all the powers given to her by the 
Holy Spirit, which were greater than it is possible to describe ; 
and as little can be told or reckoned, nor are there any words 
in which it would be possible to express, the greatness of her 
love. Those only will be in some degree able to understand it 
who have sometimes experienced the mighty forces of charity. 
This love, then, Thou, O Lord, didst will to make the sword 
and rod which should torment this Blessed Virgin, and which, 
making itself master of her heart, should inflict upon it as many 
wounds as her Son had on His Body. The Body of Jesus 
Christ, her Son, was wounded with five thousand lashes; His 
head was pricked by so many thorns, His hands and feet 
pierced with nails, His hair pulled out, His face spit upon and 
buffetted, His breast opened, and His bones (which might be 
counted) all disjointed. What must the heart of the Mother 
have felt who had all this before her eyes, and in which love 
had gathered together all the martyrdoms which were dispersed 
over the body of her Son ! 

With all this, the Blessed Virgin stood firm, and stood by 
the Cross, and stood with marvellous courage and endurance, 
u 2 




308 


The Sacred Passion. 


for love gave her strength to bear the burthen which love itself 
had placed upon her, and she offered to God with burning 
charity and humble obedience that Son Whom she had con¬ 
ceived with so much delight, brought forth with so much glory, 
and watched and tended with so much love, Whose miracles 
she had witnessed with so much wonder, and to Whose words 
she had listened with so much joy and spiritual profit. And 
now she beheld Him dying, not in His bed and with honour, 
but sentenced and condemned as a blasphemer and a traitor, 
wounded from head to foot, and nailed by three nails to a tree 
between two thieves. 

There, among the executioners who had crucified Him, and 
who were watching Him, and amidst the uproar of the furious 
people who were insulting Him, the loving Mother stood, 
seeing and hearing all that was done and said. She honoured 
with her presence that infamous place, and had her portion of 
the Cross with her Son, and rose superior by her faith and 
obedience above all past ages, and was set there for the 
example and consolation of all who at any time have to bear 
their part in the Cross. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 


The third word which our Saviour spoke , and which He 
addressed to His most holy Mother and to the Apostle 
St. John. 

•CUM VIDISSET ERGO JESUS MATREM, ET DISCIPULUM STANTEM QUEM 
DILIGEBAT, DICIT MATRI SUyE : MULIER, ECCE FILIUS TUUS. 
DEINDE DICIT DISCIPULO : ECCE MATER TUA . 1 

The Blessed Virgin being so near at hand, our Lord looked 
.at her from the Cross, and the sight of her doubtless wounded 
His Heart to death. He was naked and outraged, and He saw 
His Mother gazing upon Him. He saw that in His present 
state He was a dishonour to His Mother and a sword that 
pierced her heart. He recalled to His remembrance all her past 
joys, and the honour which, because she was the Mother of 
such a Son, had been shown to her by all people, and now that 
all was changed, that He was in the state in which a man 
desires to hide himself from his own, and not to see or be seen 
by them, He found Himself raised on high in the sight of all, 
.and His Mother close at hand. He saw her with her face all 
pale and wasted; He beheld the tears which fell so abundantly 
and heavily from her eyes, and it was impossible but that in 
that struggle and agony of death the heart of the compassionate 
Son must have been pierced at seeing the distress and agony of 
a Mother so beloved. And He Who wept at seeing Magdalene 
weep at the death of her brother, would weep also at seeing 
the Blessed Virgin weep over the death of her Son, and His 
tears would mingle with His blood, and His sobs with His last 
dying groans. 

He felt also great consolation at seeing His Mother there 
•at that time, and with good reason He esteemed this service of 
1 St. John xix. 26. 


The Sacred Passion. 


310 


hers as above all past offices, springing as it did from so great 
faith and devotion, from so much loyal love and fortitude, so 
much obedience and humility, from such burning love and 
charity, which thus many waters could not quench, but that on 
the contrary it burnt all the brighter and stronger in the midst 
of them. Cum vidisset ergo Jesus matrem. Then as Jesus 
beheld His Mother, at the time when by means of the Cross 
and His own Blood He was destroying sin, conquering the 
Kingdom of Heaven, and gaining for His people the riches of 
grace and glory, He gave her with large, with generous hand, 
her share in these gifts, bestowing upon her the best and 
greatest portion of His merits, and raising her to the highest 
dignity and existence among all pure creatures. For He pre 
served her altogether from all sin, not only from such sins as are 
mortal, but likewise from those that are venial, as well as from 
original sin, and collected together in her all the multitude of 
these graces and gifts which were to be distributed through the 
remainder of the Church, and added much to them. He made 
her Queen and Empress in the Kingdom which He was 
gaining, and He ordained that she should be the advocate of 
sinners and the treasurer of all His riches. 

Besides this, He desired there at once to give her thanks 
for her great love, and to repay her for the office she had 
performed, by looking at her, speaking to her, and showing His 
care and providence for her. For now that all things were in 
such a state as to invite Him not to look at them, and oblige 
Him to turn away His eyes from them, and His eyes them¬ 
selves being darkened with the shadow of death, and closed 
with the blood that fell from His head, yet still feeling that His 
Mother was there He forced Himself to seek to look on her, 
and opening His eyelids He forced the blood from them as 
well as He could, and fixed His eyes upon His Mother, who 
was standing before Him, and making a sign with His head to^ 
the Evangelist and beloved disciple who was in her company, 
He spoke from the Cross, and said to her, ‘Woman, behold 
thy son,’ and turning to the disciple He pointed out to him 
His Mother, saying, ‘ Behold thy Mother.’ 



“Behold thy Mother ” 


11 


Oh, wonderful piety of the Son, and new argument of the 
love which He had to His Mother! Although He was 
suspended from the Cross, working out the salvation of the 
world, and treating with His Eternal Father for the reconcilia¬ 
tion and redemption of men, yet amidst all these cares He did 
not forget the solitude in which His Mother was left, so as to 
provide her with solace and society, and for giving her another 
son in place of the one she was about to lose. Our Lord 
might easily have arranged this matter after His resurrection; 
but it was a greater boon to show His loving care for His 
Mother at the time when He was dying, and He desired to 
honour His Mother in public, and not only in those private 
and secret visits which He paid her after His resurrection. It 
was also meet that He should leave some precious legacy to 
His beloved disciple, who was present at the Cross. 

Therefore He desired that the Blessed Virgin should permit 
herself to be loved and comforted by the Evangelist in perfect 
confidence as by a son, and also that he should serve her and 
be a comfort to her as his mother, with all love, care, and 
reverence. Therefore He said to him, ‘ Behold thy Mother/ 
and to her, * Behold thy son.’ It was as though He had said— 
* I am thy natural and true Son, and thou art My true and 
much beloved Mother, and during all the time that has been 
granted to Me I have obeyed thee as a son, and shown thee 
love and respect as a mother. But now that through obedience 
to My Eternal Father I leave this present life, it is time that I 
cast My eye on some other who may perform this office in My 
stead. This shall be My beloved disciple, whom I intend to 
honour and enrich with this charge. Behold, Lady, that, in 
default of thy Son, this is the most fit gift that I can leave to 
thee. Consider that now at this moment I have already left 
thee, and thou art even now widow and desolate, forsaken and 
without a son, and this is the cause why I call thee his Mother, 
and that I do not call thee Mine, as also that I say, “ Woman, 
behold thy son,” and to the disciple, “ Behold thy Mother.” ’ 

O John, truly and indeed blessed, to whom each one of us 
owes a particular love and devotion, for in thy person the 



312 


The Sacred Passion. 


Blessed Virgin looks upon us all as her children, and we all 
look up to her as to our Mother. Remember, our Lady, that 
thou art our Mother through the recommendation which thine 
own Son addressed to Thee, in the last hours of His life, when 
He said to thee, ‘Woman, behold thy son.’ We are very 
joyful to have thee for our Mother, by the grant of Him Who 
is thy only true Son by nature, and among all the riches 
which He gained for us upon the Cross, we think this not 
the least, that making us His brethren and His members, 
He made us not only sons of His Father, but thy sons also. 
And because, to have thee for their Mother was to be the only 
refuge of sinners in life and death, our Saviour chose to discover 
this treasure to us when His charity was at its greatest heat, 
being, as He was, about to expire, even from the Cross, when, 
in the person of the Evangelist, He said to us all that which 
each one of us ought to take as though it had been said to 
himself, Ecce mater tua . Take good heed and open thine eyes, 
for this is thy Mother. 

O true Mother, by whose means we receive, in the most 
burning love of thy charity, that true life which thy Son and our 
Redeemer has merited for us by His Blood upon the Cross ! 
Eve cannot be said to be our mother, but rather our stepmother, 
she who slew her sons before she gave them birth, and who, by 
gazing with longing and gluttony on the forbidden fruit which 
hung from the forbidden tree, made herself mother of sinners. 
But thou, beholding with tears and anguish the fruit of life 
hanging on the tree of the Cross, didst deserve to be made 
Mother of all the living. And whereas, in giving birth to these 
sons, thou wert destined to suffer such sharp and bitter sorrow, 
therefore He to Whom thou didst give birth with so much joy 
and gladness, showed thee from the Cross the children who had 
cost both Him and thee so much. Therefore, pointing out to 
thee all mankind, he said, Mulier , ecce filius tuns , as though He 
had said, ‘Woman, these are the children of thy sorrow.’ And 
to us He commands that we should behold thy agony, when He 
says, Ecce mater tua , so to bind us to the love and gratitude 
which we owe to such a Mother, and to remind us that we 



The Beloved Disciple. 


313 


sinners shall always find assistance in her, since she never can 
forget what it cost her to become a mother. 

Et ex ilia hora accepit earn discipulus in sua — 1 From that 
hour the disciple took her unto His own.’ The Evangelist 
was well contented and repaid for his love and loyalty by the 
pledge of love which he had obtained at the foot of the Cross, 
and from that hour he took possession of the office committed 
to him by his Master, and began to perform towards the 
blessed and afflicted Virgin all the services of a good son 
towards his Mother, looking upon her as his own, and as the 
best and greatest part of his possessions —Accepit earn disci¬ 
pulus in sua. What, however, were the possessions which the 
Evangelist had, amongst which the Blessed Virgin was to be 
reckoned, since it is certain he had nothing of his own, seeing 
that he had left all to follow his Master? But our Lord, in 
payment for all the Apostles had left, promised them a hundred 
times more in this life in spiritual goods, and in the world to 
come life everlasting, and they looked upon nothing as their own, 
excepting the hope and the right which they had to this reward. 
The Evangelist, therefore, understood so well how to know and 
value our Blessed Lady that he counted her amongst his 
spiritual goods, regarded her as the reward of his Apostolate, 
and looked upon his being permitted to accompany and serve 
her, as a real payment and reward for having left all which in 
this world he hoped for and possessed. 




CHAPTER XXXIX. 


How , while our Saviour was on the Cross , He had us all 
present to Him and offered Himself for us all. 

Oftentimes, and with much attention and reverence, we ought 
to consider for how long a time and in how great torment our 
Redeemer remained upon the Cross. For as He had now been 
hanging upon it for three hours, that is to say, from the sixth 
to the ninth hour, it could not be but that, on account of the 
weight of His body, the wounds in His hands and feet should 
open wider. For this reason, so great was His anguish and 
the severity of His sufferings that, if He endeavoured to alleviate 
the pain in His hands, He increased the pain in His feet, by 
allowing the whole weight of His body to be thrown upon 
them, and if He tried to lighten the sufferings in His feet, by 
drawing up His body and sustaining the whole weight of it 
upon the nails in His hands, He only increased His pain in 
them, and tore open more widely and lacerated their wounds. 
But, in truth, He Who had offered Himself of His own will for 
us to this torment of the Cross, neither could nor would seek 
for any alleviation in His suffering, and besides, His weakness 
was so great that, even if He had desired it, His strength 
would have failed Him in the struggle to support Himself and 
find means to mitigate His sufferings. Thus that glorious King 
of Martyrs had given Himself over entirely to His sufferings. 

It was now also, when His torment was so great that it 
caused the sun to be darkened, and when fear and astonish¬ 
ment had caused greater silence and stillness on all who were 
assembled there, that our High Priest made a long prayer, 
having all mankind present to His mind, and offering His 
sacrifice to the Eternal Father for us all. And let us be certain 


Our Lord's Prayer on the Cross. 315 


that, although we did not behold Him in His Passion, He, 
with His penetrating gaze and His infinite knowledge, beheld 
us therein, and kept us present before Him when He was 
hanging on the Cross, in the same way as we are present to 
Him now. There it was that He suffered for us and had 
compassion upon us, and despoiled the prince of this world of 
the writing and obligation of our sins, and nailed it, together 
with Himself, upon the Cross, and blotted it out with His 
Blood, and obtained for us from God all the good thoughts and 
holy inspirations and all the succours of grace which we have 
received at His hands. 

Nor must we imagine that He prayed for men only col¬ 
lectively and in general, entreating that they might be pardoned, 
and that the gifts of grace might be bestowed upon them, 
because it was not thus. But, being on the Cross, He had every 
one of us in particular present to His memory, He loved each 
one of us, and for each of us in particular He offered Himself, 
even as though each one of us had been the only one in the 
world. And not only this, but He saw then each of our sins, 
with all its attendant circumstances, just as He beholds them 
now when they are being committed, and they afflicted His 
Sacred Heart; but yet He still prayed for us to the Father,, 
and offered His blood in payment for them. 

O most blessed memory ! O precious hours ! in which we 
were present on that same Mount of Calvary, not standing afar 
off, nor even at the foot of the Cross, but on the Cross itself, in 
the very bosom of our Redeemer, wherein He embraced us with 
infinite charity, and offered us to His Eternal Father as His 
own, in order that in Him and through Him we might be 
accepted. O Eternal Father, Whose justice is incomprehensible! 
So it was Thy will, and Thy command, that Thy most inno¬ 
cent and most loving Son should pay our debts. Behold, our 
Lord and our Father, the agony He is suffering through 
obedience to Thee, and the so abundant payment which He 
offers Thee, that so Thy justice may be appeased. Cease, 
Lord, cease Thine anger, and since the surety has been so 
severely punished, let us who are debtors be set free. Behold, 




The Sacred Passion. 


316 


Lord, the payment and Him Who discharges it upon this sacred 
mount, for He has nailed the whole account of our sins upon 
the Cross. Thou canst not look upon our sins without behold¬ 
ing them there, washed in nothing less than the blood of God, 
and Thou wilt there see Thyself paid as entirely as Thou 
Thyself canst and dost pay whatever Thou requirest. 


CHAPTER XL. 

The fourth word which our Saviour spoke upon the Cross. 

ET CIRCA HORAM NONAM CLAMAVIT JESUS VOCE MAGNA DICENS : 

ELI, ELI, LAMM A SABACTHANI ? 1 

Eor more than three hours our Saviour had been suspended 
from the Cross, praying God for us, and offering Himself in 
sacrifice for our sins. Then after so great agony and such long 
and fervent prayer, at the ninth hour (which would be, 
according to our reckoning, three o’clock in the afternoon) He 
cried out with a loud voice , 2 so that all heard Him, and 
complained that His Father had forsaken Him, repeating the 
words which had been written so long before by the Prophet 
David in His person, in order that He might utter them on 
this occasion. These words are the first in the twenty first 
Psalm, in which His Passion is treated of at great length, and 
with all particulars, and they are these— Deus mens , Deus 
■mens, nt quid dereliquisti me ? 

Our Saviour was there with His body wounded and His 
Soul afflicted, persecuted by His enemies, forsaken by His 
friends, and so destitute of all things that He had nothing on 
which He could lay His head, for He possessed nothing but 
the Cross, and upon it He could not recline it. All these 
1 St. Matt, xxvii. 46. 2 Ibid. 




Our Lord's Dereliction . 


317 


things were great and wonderful, and it is not in the power of 
man to conceive that they could happen to One Who was 
God Himself. But what is beyond all wonder and surpasses 
all understanding is, that such a Son should have been 
forsaken by such a Father, and at a season when He was 
suffering so much only through obedience to Him. This 
was a circumstance that deserved that the Holy Spirit should 
reveal it to His servants the prophets, and that they should 
leave it written, and should proclaim it to the world, that we 
should hear it from the mouth of our Lord Himself, and that 
He should publish it from the Cross in order to rouse us to 
consider it with greater attention. For which cause, being now 
about to expire, His blood and His strength alike exhausted, 
by a special miracle (for without one it could not have been) 
He raised His voice and cried aloud so that as to discover 
His agony and grief and to show that He it was of Whom it 
had been said, and in Whom was being accomplished the 
prophecy of the Psalm wherein are the words, 6 My God, My 
God, why hast Thou forsaken Me ? ’ 

O secret of divine justice and of divine mercy! The 
Just is forsaken in the midst of His sufferings that sinners 
might be succoured in theirs. That the Just should be forsaken 
was extreme rigour of divine justice, and that sinners should be 
succoured was the supremest favour of divine mercy. For 
indeed it was no great thing that kingdoms for their sins 
should be destroyed, provinces desolated, cities burnt with fire, 
and the whole world drowned beneath the waters. But it was 
a new and unheard of thing that the Eternal Father should 
forsake His beloved Son, and make Him suffer so to the 
quick the punishment due to our sins. So much God did for 
our consolation, and in order that we might have a firm hope, 
that, the divine justice being so completely paid and satisfied, 
His mercy will be shed all the more copiously upon sinners. 

Moreover, we have much cause for considering in what 
manner the Son of God could be forsaken by His Eternal 
Father. For that most sacred Humanity was never forsaken 
by the Divine Word, with which it was personally united; nor,. 




The Sacred Passion. 


3 18 


again, could the Eternal Word ever be separated from His 
Father, because being as He is one God with Him, so, by- 
reason of this unity, He was always in His Father and His 
Father in Him. Nor any more was that most holy Soul 
deprived of the clear vision of God, which It had enjoyed 
from the first moment in which It was created, even though it 
be granted that through a particular dispensation of God, and 
for our healing, It felt those sorrows and that bitterness which 
according to ordinary laws those do not feel who have a clear 
vision of God. Nor, again, did there fail in Him that confi¬ 
dence which so obedient a Son ought to have in His Father, a 
Son Who, in order to fulfil His commandment, had permitted 
Himself to be nailed upon the Cross. It was in this confidence 
that calling Him, ‘ Father,’ He had but a few moments before 
prayed to Him for the very men who were torturing Him, 
when He said—‘ Father, forgive them, for they know not what 
they do.’ And a little while afterwards, delighting Himself in 
the same name, He commended His Spirit into His hands, 
when He said—‘Father, into Thy hands I commend My 
Spirit.’ It was not possible that in any of these ways the 
Father should forsake His Son, so loving and obedient, Who 
in all things had sought His glory and taken pains to fulfil all 
His desires and will. And this He wished to signify to us when 
He said , 3 Et qui me mis it, mecum est, et non reliquit me solum: 
■quia ego quce placita su?it ei, facio semper —‘And He Who sent 
Me is with Me, and He hath not left Me alone: for I do always 
the things that please Him.’ 

Nevertheless, He forsook Him during that brief time of his 
Passion, as regarded the pains they inflicted upon Him and the 
manner in which He felt them. For, in so far as He was Man 
He might have been succoured in two ways, first, exteriorly, 
by an interference with all things from which He suffered—the 
thorns, the nails, and the scourges, being deprived of their 
power to hurt, the arms of those who were torturing Him 
being withered, and the tongues which were blaspheming and 
.accusing Him being paralyzed. After this manner, we read 
3 St. John viii. 29. 



Manner of the Dereliction. 


319 


that God favoured the martyrs, succouring them in the presence 
of their enemies with strange aids and miraculous help. He 
took its power from the fire which surrounded them. He tamed 
the wild beasts to which they were delivered. He healed by 
night the wounds inflicted upon them by day, and in a thousand 
other manners declared Himself in their favour, depriving 
creatures of their force and virtue so that they might not harm 
them. In the same way, and in other new and different ways, 
the Eternal Father might much more have defended His Son, 
by sending to His aid innumerable angels, even as our Saviour 
said to St. Peter, who was desirous of defending Him with his 
sword , 4 An pittas quia non possum rogare Patrem meum , et 
exhibebit mihi modo plus quam duodecim legiones angelorum — 
4 Thinkest thou that I cannot ask My Father, and He will 
presently give Me twelve legions of angels?’ 

It was not meet, however, as our Lord Himself declared to 
Pilate , 5 that His ministers and servants should do battle for 
Him visibly. For His Kingdom was not of this world, but 
was to be won and gained through the contempt of this world. 
On this account, and that the Scriptures might be fulfilled, 
it was right that for that time power over Him should be 
given to His enemies, and that no hindrance should be placed 
in the way of their executing their purposes and ill will against 
Him. Our Lord signified this when He said to them , 6 4 This is 
your hour and the power of darkness,’ and therefore, although 
at His entrance upon the Passion, when representing the 
feelings of His Humanity, He had entreated His Father that, 
if it were possible, the cup should pass from Him without His 
drinking it, yet, notwithstanding, He fully understood from that 
moment the sentence which had been pronounced against 
Him, and the determined will of His Father that He should 
die without being succoured by Him and that His torment 
should not be hindered. And this sentence was carried out 
with so much rigour, as is signified by this exclamation, when 
with a loud voice He cried out, 4 My God, My God, why hast 
Thou forsaken Me?’ 

4 St. Matt. xxvi. 53. 5 St. John xviii. 36. 6 St. Luke xxii. 53. 



320 


The Sacred Passion. 


He might also have been succoured, in the second place, by 
interior joy and consolation of soul, which, although it would 
not have prevented Him from suffering exterior insults and 
pains, would have taken from Him the anguish and grief 
which afflicted His Sacred Heart within. And in this respect 
God is accustomed so marvellously to succour His servants, that 
not only do they not experience any sorrow, but on the contrary 
they are glad and joyful, and glory when they have to suffer 
anything for Him. Their hearts dilate in the midst of tribu¬ 
lation, they are in the midst of the flames without receiving any 
hurt from them, they are raised above themselves and they look 
upon all things as beneath them, they are rich in the possession 
of God, and feel that nothing can make them feel want, they 
are so sheltered and hidden in the secret places of the 
countenance of God, that it seems to them as though no evil 
could come nigh them and that no scourge could reach their 
dwellings. And if the souls of the just have been frequently 
favoured by God after this manner, how much more greatly 
might the Soul of Jesus have been favoured, so as to feel no 
pain in His Passion, seeing that He had beheld in all its 
clearness the Divine Essence from the first moment of His 
creation! For it is certain that from this vision He received 
so much joy that, according to the usual law, no suffering, 
however great it might be, could have caused Him any pain, so 
that, in order that He might not be sensible of sorrow or 
anguish, it was not necessary to add any new joy and gladness 
to Him, but only not to disturb that which naturally resulted 
from His enjoyment of glory. 

But inasmuch as our Lord God often deprives His children 
of this consolation and sensible protection, and permits them 
to experience and feel the weakness of their nature, He chose 
Himself also to place Himself in the same state, in order to teach 
us how we are to bear ourselves therein. For we should have 
had very little consolation in our weakness left us, if He had 
not felt this want of consolation in His travails, and on this 
account it was expedient to restrain the current of His glory, 
and that He should be left in the midst of His tribulations, so 



The Loud Cry. 


3 21 


that His natural forces should feel them as if He had been pure 
man. And how lively would be this feeling of His, and how 
sad this dereliction, those only know how to conceive who have 
sometimes been favoured by God. And these well know how 
to estimate the force of those words—‘ My God, My God, why 
hast Thou forsaken Me ? ’ From what we have said, is seen in 
what manner and for what causes our Lord was forsaken by 
His Eternal Father. 

Again, what must excite great astonishment is that having 
preserved such great silence throughout the whole course of His 
Passion, without once complaining or opening His mouth amidst 
so many charges and calumnies, amidst so many reproaches and 
false witnesses, amidst so many injuries and outrages, so great 
torments and sufferings, now, at last, as though He were wearied 
of suffering, and as if His patience had been worn out and ex¬ 
hausted, He complained of this dereliction with so great force 
and so loud a voice, and uttered His complaint so late, when 
the business had gone so far that He was beyond the reach of 
remedy. For He asked what was the cause of His dereliction 
and Passion, when the sentence was already executed. But if 
we examine into this well we shall find that in these very things 
which appear so new and wonderful there is inclosed matter for 
our instruction and teaching. 

It is certain that our Saviour suffered with so much silence 
and with such profound patience, that as some have erroneously 
thought, they might suspect of Him all that holy Job said of 
himself , 7 and that perchance His flesh was of brass and His 
strength was as the strength of a rock, which does not complain 
when men work it and strike it, because it has no life and no 
feeling. So our Saviour suffered all His pains as though His 
body had been of brass, and He gave no sign of feeling, and 
was silent under outrage, as though His Soul had been of stone. 
But although this silence was necessary in order to give us an 
example of patience, it was also much more necessary that it 
should be understood He had much to suffer. For patience 
cannot be either very great or very exemplary where there is 

7 vi. 12. 


v 




The Sacred Passion. 


322 


either not very much to suffer, or no sensibility to suffering. 
But for a proof that the flesh of our Saviour was not of brass, 
it was enough to see the pallor of His face and the blood 
which flowed from His veins through so many cuts and wounds. 
And to show that His Soul was not of stone, but was keenly 
sensible to all the outrages and insults which were addressed 
to Him, and that His feelings had not been deadened either by 
want of common human sensibility, or by the overpowering 
sweetness of divine consolations, but that as a man of honour 
and reason, and of flesh and bone, sufferings afflicted Him as 
much as they naturally required and deserved, as He had 
repressed and kept pent up within Him these feelings for so 
long a time, and through so many circumstances and toils, so 
now, that what was passing within His Heart might be known, 
He broke forth at the very close of His life with this groan 
and cry, saying—‘ My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken 
Me?’ 

This same sadness of His Soul (as a thing which it imports 
us much to know for the consolation and joy of our own souls), 
our Saviour spoke of by word of mouth at His entrance into 
His Passion, and still more plainly did He declare it by the 
bloody sweat which ran down all His Body. But this was in 
secret, and not to all the people, nor indeed to all His Apostles, 
but only to the three whom He took apart with Him in the 
Garden, to whom He likewise declared that the sorrow with 
which He was then afflicted would last until His death. And 
He therefore spoke to them, that they might know of it from 
Him, and so the whole Church might through them know of 
His want of all consolation, His sorrow, and that total banish¬ 
ment of all spiritual gladness which He suffered in the secret 
of His Soul throughout the whole course of His Passion. It 
was not fitting that He should then publish it and declare it to 
all, that it might not be taken for weakness and lack of courage 
and as a means of moving His enemies to compassion and win 
them over as by supplication. On the contrary, when they came 
to take Him, He went forth courageously to the encounter, 
making Himself known to them, delivering Himself up into 



Complaining to the Father. 323 


their hands and to all the power of darkness. But when His 
enemies had executed their evil will upon Him and there 
remained nothing more for them to do, or for our Saviour to 
suffer, then it seemed to Him that the hour had arrived to 
manifest His Heart, and that we should know from His own 
mouth that the external torments which He had suffered in 
His Body were not so grievous as the dereliction and desolation 
which He had suffered in His Soul; and therefore before He 
expired He uttered that loud cry, ‘ My God, My God, why hast 
Thou forsaken Me?’ 

Here it is much to be noted that He did not complain 
either of the disciple who sold Him, or of the Apostle who 
denied Him, or the Chief Priests who accused Him, or the 
witnesses who calumniated Him, of the soldiers who scourged 
Him, or the Governor who condemned Him, or yet of the 
executioners who carried out the sentence upon Him. In 
general He made no complaint of the men who took part in 
His Passion, having experienced in His own disciples much 
weakness and but little loyalty, and in His enemies much hatred 
and cruelty. And yet did He complain of His Eternal Father, 
in Whom He recognized infinite love, supreme justice and 
goodness ? But to whom, however, could He complain, except 
to Him in Whose love He reposed ? And from whom could 
He ask the cause of His dereliction, except from Him Whose 
reasons for all that He does are ever founded on the highest 
justice and goodness ? He taught us at the same time that in 
our troubles and adversities we are not to deal much with men, 
but very much with God, without Whose rule and providence 
not a sparrow falls into the net, not a leaf moves on the tree. 
And if our adversities and calamities are the chastisement of 
faults, He is the Judge Who passes sentence, although men are 
they who execute the sentence ; and if they are the medicine 
for our spiritual diseases, He is the Physician Who prescribes 
them, although men are those who administer the remedy; if 
they are for our greater merit and increase of glory, He it is 
Who aids us in the battle and crowns us with victory. And as 
criminals do not appeal to the executioner, but to the judge; 
v 2 



324 


The Sacred Passion. 


as the sick do not discuss the medicines ordered for them with 
the nurse who attends them, but with the physician who has 
undertaken their cure; as soldiers do not show their wounds 
to the enemies with whom they are fighting, but to the prince 
who has to reward them ; so we ought also to close our eyes 
to men who are the instruments and executors of our sufferings, 
and open and raise them to God, Who is our Prince, our 
Physician, and our Judge, manifesting to Him our anguish, 
and laying open to Him our heart as did the Prophet who 
said , 8 4 They that sat in the gate spoke against me, and they 
that drank wine made me their song; but as for me, I directed 
my prayer to Thee, O God.’ This our Saviour accomplished 
to the letter, for when He entered upon His Passion, in the 
secret prayer which He uttered in the Garden, He entreated 
His Eternal Father not to forsake Him on that occasion, but 
that, if it were possible, the chalice might pass from Him without 
His drinking it; and then, having perceived that such was not 
His will, and having submitted Himself with humble obedience 
to all that His Father had disposed and ordained for Him; to 
that self same Father, Whom at the beginning He had prayed 
that He would not forsake Him, to Him He complained before 
His death that He had forsaken Him. 

And how did He complain, save by asking the causes 
thereof of His Father and His God, Who so loved Him, and 
yet had forsaken Him ? For this was to take it for granted that, 
though the causes for which men are accustomed to persecute 
us are generally founded in hatred and an evil will, and that to 
inquire into them and search them out is generally the occasion 
of impatience and a ground for vindictiveness, the reasons 
which God has all spring from love and are all directed to 
our profit. They are such, moreover, that if we were to 
know them, not only should we make no complaint, but w T e 
should beg of God to place us in that tribulation. Therefore, 
to inquire with humility and piety into these causes is a great 
cause of consolation and conformity to the divine will. And 
this our Saviour taught us when, speaking to His Eternal 
8 Psalm lxviii. 13. 



Our sins the Cause. 


325 


Father, He said to Him—‘ My God, My God, why hast Thou 
forsaken Me?’ 

He did not, however, continue in the words which follow in 
the twenty first Psalm, in which is given the reason why His 
Father had forsaken Him when He says, Longe a salute mea 
verba delictorum meorum. That is—‘I see that I am far from 
gaining deliverance, O Lord, and the remedy of so great evils, 
because of My many sins/ As if He were to say—‘ That Thou 
hast forsaken Me now, O Lord, is because I would not forsake 
mankind; and because I have taken upon Me the charge of 
their sins, Thou hast left Me overwhelmed in the midst of so 
many pains/ In this our Lord laid the charge of His torments 
upon us when He attributed them to His sins, which were ours 
because we consented to them, and His because He charged 
Himself with the payment for them. And to give us an occa¬ 
sion of amending in this respect, He asked with a loud voice 
why He w r as forsaken, since, as regarded Himself, there was no 
cause, and so He exclaimed — 4 My God, My God, why hast 
Thou forsaken Me ? ’ 




CHAPTER XLI. 


The fifth word which our Saviour spoke on the Cross. 

POSTEA SCIENS JESUS QUIA OMNIA CONSUMMATA SUNT, UT 
CONSUMMARETUR SCRIPTURA, DIXIT : SITIO. 1 

The sorrowful words which our Saviour had uttered in so loud: 
a voice were heard by some of them who stood near , 2 and were 
received with scoffs and derision. The reason was that the 
Saviour spoke them in Hebrew, which was His natural tongue, 
in which to say —‘ My God, My God ! ’ He had to repeat twice 
the word— Eli, Eli ! Then some of those present immediately 
exclaimed in mockery—‘ Behold, this man calls upon Elias to 
help Him.’ It was perhaps the Priests and Scribes who spoke 
thus, taking occasion for a jest from a similarity between the 
words Eli and Elias. Then the saying quickly spread amongst 
the soldiers of the guard who were standing there, all the more 
as such folk are much inclined of themselves to any jest or 
merriment. Moreover, from their ignorance of the language, 
they easily imagined that, when our Saviour exclaimed—‘ Eli, 
Eli,’ He was calling upon Elias to help Him, and so, one of 
them running quickly, filled a sponge with vinegar , 3 and putting 
it upon a reed raised it to His lips, saying — 1 Stay, let us see if 
Elias come to take Him down.’ 

The reason why the soldier who said these words offered 
our Saviour vinegar to drink is given by the Apostle St. John, 
who says that just at that moment our Lord declared He was 
athirst, saying the words—‘I thirst.’ Our Redeemer was so 
entirely master of Himself in the midst of the uproar of the 
people, in the torments and insults and in the agony of death,. 

1 St. John xix. 28. 2 St. Matt, xxvii. 47. 

3 St. Mark xv. 36. 



Thirst of our Saviour. 


327 


and so attentive to accomplish the will of His Father, that He 
kept before His eyes all the prophecies which had been written 
of Him, that all might be fulfilled and that not one should fail. 
And things having come to this, 4 He remarked that all things 
were now accomplished, and that there was nothing wanting* 
except that which had been written of Him in the Psalms, 5 
which says, Et in siti mea potaveruni me aceto — 4 In My thirst 
they gave Me vinegar to drink.’ And in order that this Scripture 
might be accomplished, our Lord declared that He suffered 
from the thirst of which the Prophet spake, and that the time 
had now come when vinegar should be given Him to drink; 
therefore He said— 4 1 thirst.’ 

This thirst was no doubt bodily thirst which afflicted Him, 
and of which He complained. For the Agony and bloody 
sweat in the Garden, the sleepless night which He had passed, 
the different journeys He had made that day from one place to 
another, the terrible suffering of being suspended from the 
Cross, and the great quantity of blood which He had shed 
thereon, all these were sufficient causes why His interior should 
be parched and His strength gone, why His tongue should 
cleave to His palate, even as it had been written of Him in the 
twenty first Psalm, 6 Aruit tanquam testa virtns mea, et lingua 
mea adhcesit faucibus meis — 4 My strength is dried up like a 
potsherd, and My tongue hath cleaved to My jaws.’ And His 
necessity being so great and the remedy of a cup of water so 
easy, He did not even ask or entreat that it should be given 
Him, but was contented with simply declaring what He was 
suffering, saying, 4 1 thirst,’ as if He had been among friends who 
wished Him well, and who, on knowing that He was athirst, 
would immediately offer Him wherewith to refresh Himself. 

O most holy Virgin ! what must not thy loving heart have 
endured on hearing these* words, and still more when thou 
didst behold the refreshment which His enemies offered Him, 
and felt that thou wert not powerful enough to give even a cup 
of water to thy Son when, with His dying breath, He asked so 
modestly for it! 

4 St.John xix. 28. 


5 lxviii. 22. 


6 v. 16. 



328 


The Sacred Passion. 


Yet, what is this, my Saviour? Does that thirst pain Thee 
more than the Cross, seeing that Thou dost not complain of 
the Cross, but Thou complainest of thirst? What thirst can 
this be which oppresses Thee so greatly, but the desire for our 
salvation and our healing? As if Thou hadst clearly said to 
us, ‘Your evils afflict Me more than My own, and I feel your 
sins more than all the torments of My Cross.’ O Lord, if this 
is Thy thirst, the tears of my conversion and penitence might 
appease it, and yet I, more cruel than Thine enemies them¬ 
selves, will not give Thee, in Thy thirst, at least this refreshment 
and alleviation. 

But Thou, Lord, even as Thou didst thirst for my salvation, 
so also didst Thou thirst to suffer much for me, and therefore 
Thou didst not complain of the Cross, because Thy love 
overcame and subdued all Thy torments. But, after having 
drunk with so great resignation that bitter chalice to which 
Thou didst offer Thyself in the Garden, Thou didst thirst to 
drink many others if Thy Father were to decree it, and this 
thirst Thou didst declare openly when exclaiming, ‘I thirst.’ 
Blessed, O Lord, be Thy love, which many waters could not 
quench. 7 For, if we were to see a man so consumed by thirst 
as to lay himself in the stream of a mighty river, to receive it 
all into his mouth, and if, after having drunk it all and 
swallowed it, he should say that he was still athirst, it would 
cause very great wonder and astonishment. But Thy love, 
O Lord, was so ardent, that as was written of Thee, 8 ‘Thou didst 
enter into the depths of the sea and the tempests overwhelmed 
e Thee, and the waters entered in even unto Thy Soul,’ and yet, 
notwithstanding all this, Thou didst say that Thou wast athirst, 
and being in the midst of the sea it seemed to Thee that all 
its waters were insufficient to satisfy and appease Thy longing. 
Thy thirst, O Lord, was to suffer, therefore it was a thirst for 
the drink given Thee by Thine enemies, because by means of 
it Thy sufferings were to be increased, and it is very certain 
that if Thou hadst expected to receive any alleviation from 
them, Thou wouldst not have complained of thirst. But Thou 
7 Cant. viii. 7. 1 8 Psalm Ixviii. 2. 



The Vinegar. 


329 


knewest well what had been written of Thee, that in Thy thirst 
they would give Thee vinegar; therefore, in order that the 
Scripture might be accomplished and that Thou shouldst not 
spare Thyself this suffering, Thou saidst, ‘I thirst/ 

Now there was a vessel set there full of vinegar, 9 which it 
was the custom to have at hand on similar occasions, in order 
to revive criminals therewith, if by chance they should faint 
under their sufferings, because vinegar, especially if mixed with 
hyssop, has the effect of increasing strength and restoring 
spirits and force to those who are fainting. Therefore, as on 
the one hand our Saviour had declared that He was athirst, 
and on the other hand, some of those who were present had 
begun to mock Him, saying that He was calling on Elias, one 
of the soldiers who thought to' keep up the joke, and to give it 
a more solemn character by what he did, 10 took it up and ran 
to give Him the vinegar. He did this under colour of giving 
Him to drink, so as to appease the thirst of which He com¬ 
plained, and to support His strength and courage till they 
could see whether Elias would come to set Him free. And as 
our Saviour was nailed on the summit of the Cross and could 
not drink from the vessel, the soldier took a sponge, filled it with 
vinegar, and then fastening a bunch of hyssop on the top of a 
reed, he put the sponge in the midst of the hyssop, and 
lifted it to His mouth, that together with the vinegar He might 
imbibe some of the sap and substance of the hyssop, and at 
the same time the others who were standing by, said, 11 ‘ Let be, 
let us see if Elias will come to deliver Him/ 

This is the fruit which our Lord received from His vineyard 
of the Synagogue, so enriched and so blessed as it was, and 
which instead of grapes bore sour grapes, and instead of wine 
gave Him vinegar to drink. This is the refreshment which was 
offered to our Lord in His hunger and in His thirst, in con¬ 
demnation of our gluttony. This is the music with which He 
was entertained whilst He was eating and drinking! Never¬ 
theless, 12 our Saviour drank the vinegar, and the meek and 

9 St. John xix. 29. 10 St. Matt, xxvii. 48. 11 Ibid. 49. 

12 St. John xix. 30. 



330 


The Sacred Passion. 


humble Lamb did not disdain to accept that refreshment, 
which, with so much cruelty and scoffing, His enemies offered 
to Him. He accepted it, that the Scriptures might be fulfilled, 
and also that He might give a brighter example of His 
meekness and charity, and immediately that He had drunk it 
He said, Consummatum est —‘ It is finished.’ 


CHAPTER XLII. 

The sixth word which our Saviour spoke on the Cross. 

CUM ERGO ACCEPISSET JESUS ACETUM, DIXIT: CONSUMMATUM EST . 1 

Our Saviour had two offices in the world, that is to say, the 
offices of Teacher and of Redeemer, and two things were 
commended to Him to do by the Eternal Father, namely, to 
teach us and to redeem us, and both the one and the other He 
carried through to the end and accomplished in full perfection. 
Of the first He said, after having preached the last sermon to 
His disciples at the supper, 2 Opus consummavi quod dedisti mihi 
ut faciam. . . . Manifestavi nomen tuum hominibus , quos dedisti 
mihi de mundo . That is— £ I have perfectly fulfilled and finished 
the work which Thou gavest me to do, ... for I have preached 
and manifested Thy name to men.’ Of the second our Lord 
also spoke when He went up to suffer, 3 Ecce ascendimus 
Jerosolymam et consummabuntur omnia quce scripta sunt per 
prophetas de Filio hominis —‘Behold, we go up to Jerusalem, 
and all things shall be accomplished to the last letter which 
have been written by the prophets concerning the Son of 
Man.’ In those words, Consummabuntur omnia , our Saviour then 
referred to what was future, and now that He was about to 

1 St. John xix. 30. 2 Ibid. xvii. 4, 6. 

3 St. Luke xviii. 31. 




‘It is consummated.” 


331 


expire on the Cross, He bore witness that all things had been 
accomplished, and so He repeated in the past tense the same 
words, saying, Consummatum est. In like manner, as all the 
sufferings of our Lord which had been prophesied in the 
Scriptures were now accomplished to the letter, so at the same 
time had He carried out to the end, and given complete per¬ 
fection and consummation to, His divine and sovereign designs 
for the glory of God and the redemption of men. All this is 
contained in the words Consummatum est . 

How marvellous a symbol and a representation of all the 
wisdom and justice and goodness of God is the very Son of 
God and of the Virgin suspended upon the Cross, with this 
inscription, Consummatum est! For this riddle of the Cross, so 
obscure to human wisdom, which was a scandal to the Jews 
and foolishness to the Gentiles, was solved by those two words, 
in order that the elect of God might recognize in that self same 
Cross the power and wisdom of God, and the perfection and 
consummation of all things. Consummatum est! —‘All is now 
completed; now have I drunk the chalice of My Passion 
drop by drop to the very dregs; now have all the prophecies 
been fulfilled, light has appeared in the darkness, and the 
truth of all the ancient symbols has been made manifest; now 
are paid all the debts of sinners, and purchased at their due 
prices the rewards of glory for the just, and firm peace has been 
established between God and man; now is the strife against 
sin and hell over, and a glorious victory has been obtained; 
now has an end been put to the pilgrimage of mortal life, and 
now has the Kingdom and the triumph of glory been begun.’' 
Consummatum est! O words full of ineffable secrets, con¬ 
taining in themselves the whole mystery of our redemption,, 
words which could be said by Him alone Who could do what 
He said. He alone could give us such joyful tidings from the 
Cross, Who alone desired and was able to give us by means 
thereof such bountiful gifts. 

That we may better understand this so great a benefit, we 
should place ourselves at the foot of the Cross in the presence 
of our Lord, and there ponder, as far as His divine grace will 




332 


The Sacred Passion. 


help us, the greatness of the debt which our father Adam 
laid upon himself and upon all his descendants, in disobeying 
the command which God imposed upon him. For at the same 
time he bound himself, for himself and his descendants, to pay 
the penalty due for his sin, which was so great that neither 
they nor he had wherewithal to discharge it. Every day, more¬ 
over, fresh debts were added to the first, and, whenever men 
: sinned of their own freewill, they took upon themselves a new 
obligation, and subjected themselves to its penalty. As men 
who have become bankrupt for their debts and have incurred 
many obligations, take flight and endeavour to conceal them¬ 
selves, allowing execution to be made on their property without 
being able to defend or protect themselves, so in like manner 
were all men before the Divine Majesty, Whom they had 
offended, fugitives, and full of terror, trembling at the very 
name of justice, suffering every day execution on their goods, 
their honour, their salvation, and their life, without being ever 
able to pay their debts. Oh, how miserable a spectacle, and 
how worthy of compassion, to see man involved in so many 
calamities, and chastised in so many ways; suffering from all 
God’s creatures who had been made that they might serve him, 
all of them executing upon him the punishment which he owed 
to their Lord and his ! And at last, when he quitted this life, 
the devils were ready at hand to take his soul and to cast it 
into the prison of hell, to remain there until with exquisite 
torments it had paid the whole of the debt, and as it was 
impossible to pay it, so it was of necessity that the penalty and 
imprisonment should be eternal. 

Nevertheless, our Lord, Who is rich in mercy through His 
most compassionate Heart, came down from heaven to satisfy 
our obligation, and to pay (as He Himself says in Psalm 
lxviii. 5 ) that which He had not taken. Nailed upon the 
Cross, with the price of His Blood He paid the Eternal Father 
for the debts which we owed, and having by this become Lord 
of all men, and we His slaves, He bestowed on us perfect 
liberty, graciously remitting our debts, and freely pardoning 
-our sins. He likewise despoiled the prince of this world of 



Glory purchased. 


333 


the right which he had over us, 4 discharging the obligation 
whereby we had subjected ourselves to him, as the account of 
a debt now paid, blotting it out with His Blood, and nailing it 
to His Cross; and He did not wish to leave this mortal life 
without Himself giving to the world the good news of our 
redemption, when He said, Consummatum est! The business is 
now finished, and the debt is paid. 

And this redemption was also so copious, and the price of 
it so great, overwhelming, and abundant, that not only was it 
sufficient to pay our debts and to deliver us from hell, but also 
to purchase for us, at its just value, the reward of eternal 
blessedness. So that, although it be true 5 that the sufferings 
of this life are not worthy to merit the glory to come and which 
shall be revealed in us, nevertheless the Passion of our Lord 
was worthy to merit this glory for all; and though our sufferings 
could not purchase that, yet when they are joined with the 
Passion of the Lamb without spot, and when they arise from 
the spirit of His grace, then they become a just price, and are 
worthy even of that glory. Therefore our Lord, when He had 
shed His Blood, said—‘ The price is now paid, and the pay¬ 
ment is consummated and perfected.’ O words full of conso¬ 
lation and of confidence ! Poor needy man is made rich by this 
great mercy, and he who before trembled as a debtor at the 
very name of justice, and hid himself because he could not 
pay his debt, now claims from God, as from a just Judge, 6 the 
crown of justice, and appears with security before the divine 
tribunal, sheltered beneath those words of our Lord, ‘All is 
paid ’— Consummatum est! 

Our Lord, again, having freely given to man that which cost 
Him His blood and His life, that is to say, the remission of 
his sins and virtue to merit the reward of glory, by this means 
a firm peace was established and concluded between God and 
men. Men by their sins had offended the Divine Majesty and 
provoked His anger, and, to follow their own desires, had left 
the obedience of their lawful Lord, and had not observed His 
commandments. This was a state full of misery, for whither 
4 Colos. ii. 14. 5 Rom. viii. 18. 6 2 Tim. iv. 8. 



334 


The Sacred Passion. 


could man flee, or how could he hide himself from God ? And 
which of God’s creatures could be his friend, since he was the 
enemy of the common Lord of all ? And how could he be at 
peace with himself when God was not at peace with him ? The 
remedy was in like manner very difficult, seeing there was no 
mediator to come forward to bring the parties together and 
obtain from God pardon for the past and for man amendment 
of the future. For it is hard to make a peace which shall be 
firm and true, unless satisfaction is made for the injuries which 
have been done, and unless there is a cessation of others for 
the future. But man in himself was so poor and so weak that 
he had no capital wherewith to satisfy for the offences which 
had been committed, nor had he strength to sustain Himself so 
-as not to fall again into other sins. This, then, was the cause 
why peace with God was not made, and why the war with so 
powerful an enemy was to continue, at such cost to poor weak 
man that he was to have upon him the anger and indignation 
of God in eternal punishment. 

O bowels of the divine mercy! which in a case so wretched 
provided for man a most abundant remedy, by giving us a 
mediator such as was needful between him and God, Christ 
Jesus, Who was true God and true Man, in Whom, as the 
Apostle says, 7 ‘ Dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily,’ 
communicating Itself to Him without limit or measure. For 
His sake God was willing to admit men to His friendship and 
to reconcile all things to Himself, making peace between 
heaven and earth by means of the blood which He shed upon 
the Cross. 

Now, then, the Prince 8 and Mediator of Peace was there 
nailed upon the Cross, and lifted up between heaven and earth, 
arranging the terms which it was fit to make in order that the 
peace might be firm and lasting. And He did not treat with 
God by means of faith, as men do, but He saw Him and spoke 
with Him face to face, in the presence of the sovereign spirits 
and of all the celestial Court. There He was offering Him, on 
the part of man, His blood and His life in payment of their 
7 Colos. i. 9. 8 Isaias ix. 6. 




The Finisher of Faith. 


335 


debts and in satisfaction of their offences, and entreating Him 
with strong cries and tears 9 to pardon them and be reconciled 
to them. And He was heard by the Eternal Father in His 
prayer, as well for the sake of the superabundant payment 
which He offered, as for the reverence with which He prayed, 
and for what was due to His Person. And out of regard to 
Him and to this sacrifice God was reconciled with man, and 
offered on His side to maintain an everlasting peace and 
friendship with them, and the treaty being thus concluded, our 
-Saviour said on the Cross, ‘ It is now paid, all is concluded 
and set at peace ’—Consummation est. 

In this way, by means of the Cross, all things were con¬ 
summated, and were brought to the highest point of perfection, 
and dying thereon our Lord became, as the Apostle says, 10 the 
Author and Finisher of our faith. For upon the Cross He 
wrought the principal mysteries which we believe, and made 
firm those which we hope; He took away from us the love of 
those things which we possess in this life, and smoothed the 
path that we might obtain those which we desire in glory ever¬ 
lasting. In this Cross 11 consists the substance and effect of all 
the promises of God, the fulfilment of all prophecies, the reality 
of ancient shadows, and the truth of all the figures of the law. 
The law 12 not being able to bring anything to its due perfection, 
because it was full of sterile and empty ceremonies, 13 our Lord, 
by this one oblation, consummated and perfected for ever them 
that were destined to be saints, 14 and summing up in one word 
all these things He said, Consummatum est . All is finished, 
all is fulfilled, all is perfected and consummated; now is 
executed all that the Eternal Wisdom has traced out; now is 
paid all that His rigorous justice required, and all is done in 
favour of man which became God’s infinite love and mercy. 
Now is accomplished all that He promised to the Patriarchs, 
all that He preached by the Prophets, and was signified and 
wrapped up in ancient ceremonies and figures. All is now 
done—all that was requisite in order to instruct our ignorance, 

9 Heb. v. 7. 10 Ibid. xii. 2. 11 2 Cor. i. 20. 12 Heb. vii. 19. 

13 Gal. iv. 9. 14 Heb. x. 13. 



336 


The Sacred Passion. 


to strengthen our weakness, to correct our malice; the retnedy 
of all our ills is now consummated. Nothing is wanting of all 
that was meet and necessary to arouse the lukewarm and animate 
the fervent, to cure the sick and preserve those who are in 
health, all that was required for the consolation and advance¬ 
ment of the just and for the pardon and reconciliation of 
sinners; all is accomplished which was meet for the conquest 
of the world, for the subjecting of the flesh, and triumphing 
gloriously over the devil and hell. Consummatum est! 

That He might make these words true, and conclude so 
glorious an enterprise, our Lord confronted with such firmness 
and fortitude the outrages and sufferings of His Passion, and 
remained for more than three hours hanging on the Cross 
without desiring to descend from it, for all that His enemies 
asked it of Him, blaspheming Him because He did not do so, 
and offering to believe in Him if He would come clown. 4 If He 
be the Son of God/ they said, 4 let Him come down from the 
Cross, and we will believe in Him.’ That blind and unbelieving 
people did not see it was not for the Son of God to leave what 
He had begun, and not to finish the work of redemption which 
He had taken on Himself without carrying it on to the end, 
although it were necessary that, together with it, His life itself 
should be ended. His life then ended and His work then 
ended too, and of both one and the other He said, Consum¬ 
matum est. 

He left us herein an example not to desert nor turn back 
from what we have once undertaken, for the greater glory and 
service of God, on account of difficulties, however many, which 
may arise, and contradictions which we may have to meet, so 
that it may not be said of us with reason, what is mentioned in 
the Gospel, 15 Hie homo coepit cedificare et non potuit consummare — 
4 This man began to build and was not able to finish, and having 
wasted his property carelessly, has not been able to finish his 
undertaking or bring it to completion, and thus he has suffered 
loss and received no profit.’ Let us then persevere firmly on 
the Cross, 16 and let us by patience run on without fainting in 
15 St. Luke xiv. 30. 16 Heb. xii. 2. 



Perseverance unto the end. 


337 


the battle of faith, keeping always before our eyes the Author 
thereof, Jesus Christ our Lord, Who, having before Him joy 
and repose, chose to suffer on the Cross for our redemption and 
example, making no account of the confusion and contempt 
He would have to bear therefore, and now is seated at the 
right hand of God. For this cause we ought frequently, as the 
Apostle advises us, to think 17 over diligently the example of 
our Lord, Who endured such opposition of sinners against 
Himself, that we may not be disheartened and that our souls 
may not fail in our trials and difficulties, seeing that we have 
not yet resisted unto blood, fighting against sin. 

It is meet, then, that we should fight and strive 18 for justice, 
even to the shedding of our blood, and that we should be 
faithful unto death 19 if we desire to receive the crown of life; 
and we should not flee from the Cross, but persevere in it until 
the will of God is entirely accomplished in us, even as our 
Lord persevered until He was able to say, Consummatum est. 
The troubles which have an end cannot be very great, brief 
and trivial is all that passes away with time. God wills that the 
tribulations of His own should pass quickly and in a moment: 
that which at the beginning seems intolerable, if we suffer it a 
little while, it is over while we turn our heads. And that we 
should have this consolation, even from the mouth of our 
Saviour Himself, after He had passed through the great tempest 
of His sufferings and when He was about to die, before He 
expired He said, ‘All is finished ’—Consummatum est. 

The Blessed Virgin at that moment lifted her sacred eyes 
to see if with these words the life of her Son had ended. And 
what must not her compassionate heart have endured, when 
gazing on His face, she recognized by its pallor and the change 
that had passed over it, the presence of death, which was close 
at hand ? What must she have felt when she saw the colour 
fading from His face, His lips parched, His nostrils drawn, the 
beauty of His eyes obscured, His head bow down, and His 
sacred bosom heave ? 

17 Heb. xii. 3. 18 Ecclus. iv. 33. 

19 Apoc. ii. 10. 

W 



33 § 


The Sacred Passion. 


O unheard of martyrdom! O most chaste eyes of Mary r 
guarded so long, to be her torturers on that day ! The Blessed 
Virgin beheld Her Son torn to pieces by suffering, and she 
could not aid Him, she saw His body covered with wounds 
and she could not heal them, she saw His sacred flesh stained 
with blood and she could not wash it away, she saw that blood 
of infinite value shed upon the Cross and she could not gather 
it up, she saw His eyes bloodshot and deathlike with weeping 
and she could not bathe them, she saw Him dying of thirst and 
she had nothing to give Him to drink, she saw His sacred 
head drooping and falling and she could not hold it up, she 
heard a thousand blasphemies uttered against Him and she 
could not defend Him, she saw Him forsaken by His Father 
and she could not succour Him, she saw Him about to depart 
and she could not embrace Him, she saw Him die and she 
could not die with Him. And that Mother’s heart was so 
afflicted that it seemed as if it would forsake her body, through 
her desire and anguish for her Son, and her soul, as if trans¬ 
ported out of herself, was wholly united with Him upon the 
Cross. 

And when things were thus with her, suddenly she saw Him 
draw fresh breath, and with power and strength of chest, 20 cry 
out in a loud and sonorous voice, which resounded into the 
very depths of her soul and reanimated her failing spirits, and 
moved her pure and maternal heart, and she began to expect 
something more to pass ere her Son died. And as she was 
thinking that all was over, and was paying great attention in 
gathering up the last words which her Son uttered, she heard 
Him speaking to His Eternal Father and say to Him, 1 Father, 
into Thy hands I commend My Spirit.’ 


St. Matt, xxvii. 50. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 


The seventh word which our Saviour spoke on the Cross . 

ET CLAMANS VOCE MAGNA JESUS AIT: PATER, IN MANUS TUAS 
COMMENDO SPIRITUM MEUM . 1 

To place anything into the hands of another is to put it at his 
good pleasure and disposition, that he may do with it as he 
will. And if the thing be greatly beloved and esteemed, to 
place it in the hands of another is to recommend it to his truth 
and faithfulness, putting confidence in him, that as it has been 
left in his hands to do with it as he will, he will consider 
himself obliged to preserve it and to look after it with the 
greatest care and solicitude. In this manner we are wont to 
commit a charge to others, when we say to them, ‘In your 
hands I place my life, or my honour, or my goods,’ obliging 
them by such words to be so much more solicitous for our 
welfare, as we, for the regard and confidence we have towards 
them, divest ourselves of all care, and put the things that are 
dearest to us out of our own power and disposal, in order to 
remit them to and place them in theirs. 

If men, then, who drink lies and malice like water, are 
sometimes honoured by us in this manner, and if we place so 
great confidence in them, how much greater reason have we to 
show such honour to God, confiding in Him, and putting 
ourselves and all that we have into His hands, since as the 
Prophet says, 2 4 The Lord is holy in all His works, and true 
and faithful in all His words ? ’ Who has ever sought to rely on 
Him and has been disappointed ? Who has ever drawn near to 
Him and been repulsed? Who has ever confided in Him and 
been brought to shame thereby ? Or who has hoped in Him 
1 St. Luke xxiii. 46. 2 Psalm cxliv. 31. 


W 2 


340 


The Sacred Passion. 


and has found his hope to have been in vain—especially since 
all we have is His, and we never place anything in His hands 
which we have not first received from Him? Therefore it 
the more behoves us to humble ourselves 3 beneath the mighty 
hand of God, receiving as good all that He does unto us, and 
submitting ourselves entirely to His disposal and providence. 

This confidence which we have in God is of greatest 
worth when we are in tribulation, and are deprived of some of 
the good things which we love the most, and then place in His 
hands what remains to us, that with them also He may do as it 
pleases Him ; because by this we confess that He is just and 
holy in all that He does with us, and that when He afflicts us, 
then it is He loves us, that He is faithful and just in providing 
for our good, and that we should never attempt to escape out 
of His hands even when He is laying them most heavily upon 
us. And if the tribulation goes so far as to reach even to 
death itself,.we even then ought to hope in Him, and. not to 
hide ourselves from His hand, even though we see it threaten 
us with a naked sword, holding it for certain that if He slay us 
with His hand, that death will come to be the cause of life. 
And in this spirit and confidence holy Job exclaimed p Etiam 
si occiderit me, in ipso sperabo —‘Although He should kill me, I 
will trust in Him.’ 

Now the great Teacher of men and Honourer of His 
Eternal Father, did not wait to teach us this doctrine from the 
Cross, nor to honour the Father with this sort of honour, seeing 
that when He entered upon His Passion, and whilst He was in 
the Garden, He placed in the hands of His Father His honour 
and His life, when He said—‘Father, if it be possible let this 
chalice pass from Me, but if it may not be, Father, that I drink 
it not, let it not be as I will, but as Thou wilt.’ And having 
assured Himself that His Father desired that He should drink 
it, He received it with so much courage, that when St. Peter 
wished to hinder Him from taking it, He said to him—‘ The 
chalice which My Father has given Me, shall I not drink it ? * 
So that in an occasion so terrible as that in which He was 
3 i St. Peter v. 6. 4 Job xiii. 15. 



The Hands of the Father. 


34i 


brought face to face with a death so ignominious and cruel, He 
placed Himself wholly in the hands of His Father, and then, 
after He had received such treatment from them that there was 
no longer any whole place in His Body, and things having 
gone so far that He was now about to finish His life in the 
public torment and shame of the Cross, not for all this did He 
cease to acknowledge the love of His* Father, Who was treating 
Him with such severity, nor did He hesitate also to place 
in His hands His Spirit, which was on the point of leaving 
His Body. And so, as He had called Him Father in the 
Garden, when He commended to Him His honour and His 
life, so now, when He had lost both, He likewise called Him 
Father, commending His Spirit into His hands, saying, ‘Father, 
into Thy hands I commend My Spirit.’ Knowing for certain 
that He would rise again the third day, and that this glory was 
due to His merits, He did not, nevertheless, desire to take it 
with His own hands, but rather to look for it from the hands of 
His Father; and so He placed His Spirit in His hands as in 
the hands of One Who would faithfully guard the trust, and 
Who at the appointed time, which was the third day, would 
return it to His Body with great increase of glory and immor¬ 
tality, and so He said, ‘Father, into Thy hands I commend 
My Spirit.’ 

After this manner He took possession, in the name of all 
the just, of the hands of God as the place where they would 
be most secure that death' could not inflict any injury upon 
them, according to what is written, 5 Justorum animce in manic 
Dei sunt, et non tanget illos tormentum mortis —‘ The souls 
of the just are in the hands of God, and the torment of death 
shall not touch them.’ And our Saviour, having thus assured 
us of the hands of God in which to place our souls, has set at 
rest the greatest of our anxieties, which is, that we do not know 
what will become of them after this life. For what man is there 
with the slightest spark of faith who does not feel some anxiety 
in thinking what will become of Him for ever ? This it ought 
to be which most presses upon those who are at the moment 
5 Wisdom iii. 1. 




342 


The Sacred Passion. 


of death, when the soul is in haste to take flight, and it knows 
not whither it will have to go, though it knows that to which¬ 
ever side it falls, there it will have to remain throughout eternity. 
And if in such a doubt one tries to make himself secure by 
relying on himself, he is overwhelmed in the ocean of the 
secrets of God. What else can be better at such a time than to 
cast oneself on the mercy of God, and put the whole matter 
into His hands, and to say the same words which our Saviour 
uttered when He expired, 1 Father, into Thy hands I commend 
My Spirit ’ ? 

And the Evangelists observe that our Saviour said these 
words with a loud voice and cry, for St. Matthew writes, 6 Jesus 
autem iterum damans voce magna, emisit spiritum , and St. Mark, 7 
Jesus autem emissa voce magna expiravit. What it was that He 
said in such a loud voice at the moment of His death is declared 
by St. Luke, 8 when he says, Et damans-voce magna Jesus ait , 
Pater , in manus tuas commendo spiritum meum. Et hoec dicens 
expiravit —‘And Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, Father, 
into Thy hands I commend My spirit.’ 

It was not without a cause that our Saviour cried out so 
loud, for He showed thereby the confidence and security with 
which He died, and the triumph which He was gaining over 
His enemies; for that loud voice was the voice of a Conqueror. 
It showed plainly that He was the Lord of life and of death, 
and that He was not dying from weakness or necessity, but only 
through His own will; and as He was sufficiently strong to cry 
with so loud a voice, He would likewise have had strength to 
sustain and keep up His life for as long a time as He might 
desire. Finally, He showed by this cry, miraculous as it was 
and beyond all human power, that He was true God, which was 
proved by what afterwards took place, for, as St. Mark says 9 — 

4 The Centurion, who was standing over against Him, seeing 
that crying out in this manner He had given up the ghost, 
said, Indeed this Man was the Son of God.’ 

We should certainly consider very much the profound silence 
which our Saviour maintained during the whole of His Passion, 

6 xxvii. 50. 7 xv. 37. 8 xxiii. 46. 9 xv. 39. 



The Seven Words. 


343 


amidst so many accusations and calumnies, not attempting to 
defend or justify Himself nor to discredit the witnesses and 
accusers, so that even the Gentile Governor 10 before whom the 
cause was tried wondered exceedingly at Him, and, inspired by 
a better spirit, the holy prophets had also marvelled at it ages 
before, one of them exclaiming 11 —‘ This is My chosen servant, 
My beloved, My soul delighteth in Him. He shall not cry nor 
defend Himself, neither shall His voice be heard in the streets.’ 
And in another place He says 12 —‘ He shall be led as a sheep 
to the slaughter, and shall be dumb as a lamb before His shearer, 
and He shall not open His mouth.’ This being so, that He was 
as it were dumb before men, and had scarcely uttered a word 
on very cogent occasions, nevertheless, during the three hours 
that He was hanging from the Cross He spoke seven times for 
our profit and our instruction. Thrice out of these seven He 
spoke to God, and twice with cries and a loud voice. Of the 
four times that He spoke to men, the first was to a great sinner 
{the thief), to give him forgiveness and indulgence, the second, 
to two very holy persons, His most blessed Mother and the 
Evangelist St. John, to give them consolation; and on one of 
the other occasions He spoke to the bystanders, signifying the 
thirst which He, felt, and this was as it were to speak to the 
Synagogue to show it the thirst for its redemption with which 
He was leaving this world, and to make a last proof of the 
vinegar which that vine had always given Him to drink; and 
His other word w r as addressed to the new Church and chosen 
people, to whom He gave the good news of His having finished 
and concluded the affair of its redemption and salvation. The 
three times when He spoke to God were so arranged, that one 
was the first of all, and another, the last, and another in the 
middle of the seven words; teaching us thereby that we ought 
to have recourse to God on all occasions, and that He ought to 
be the beginning, the middle, and the end of all undertakings, 
even of those in which we have to deal with men. And His 
speaking twice to His Father with a loud voice was to show the 
fervent affection and burning desire from which His prayers 
10 St. Matt, xxvii. 14. 11 Isaias xlii. i; St. Matt. xii. 19. 12 Isaias liii. 7. 




344 


The Sacred Passion. 


sprang; for the fervent desire of the soul is as a loud cry in the: 
ears of God, even when the tongue does not move. But that 
He might show the overflowing affection of His Heart, our Lord 
prayed that last time on the Cross with a loud voice. 

He gave us likewise hereby a sure pledge and a certain 
hope that His prayers had been heard ; for what is uttered in a 
loud voice is heard by all, even by the deaf and by those who 
are afar off—how much more, then, by those who are near, 
and whose hearing is perfect ? The Eternal Father, therefore,, 
being so near His Son, and His ears being so attentive to all. 
His prayers, how would He not hear those prayers which were 
uttered in so loud a voice? Our Lord knew well that His 
prayers, even though He made them silently, were as cries in 
the ears of His Father, and that He always heard them, as He 
says in St. John, 13 Ego antem sciebam quia semper me audis — 1 1 
know that Thou always hearest Me; ’ but in order that we 
might understand and take heed to it, He made this last prayer 
aloud. Of this, and the others, St. Paul says 14 that our Saviour, 
‘in the days of His mortal life, with a strong cry and with 
tears offered up prayers and supplication to the Lord Who was 
able to save Him from death,’ and that He was heard as well 
for the reverence with which He prayed as for what was due to 
His Person. Our Lord entreated His Father either that He 
might not taste death, if that were possible, as He prayed in 
the Garden, or that if it were His will that He should be 
delivered up to death, that He would take Him speedily out of 
its jaws, 15 so that His Soul might not be left in hell, nor His 
Body see corruption—as Jonas, although He was swallowed up 
by the whale, yet came forth the third day safe and sound 
therefrom ; and He was heard in this prayer, which He made 
with many tears and in a loud voice as the Apostle says. Thus,, 
then, being on the Cross in the very jaws of death and about 
to be swallowed up thereby, He placed His Soul in the hands 
of the Father that on the third day He might restore it to His- 
Body, and said with a loud voice, ‘ Father, into Thy hands I 
commend My Spirit.’ 

33 xi. 42. 14 Heb. v. 7. 15 Psalm xv. 10. 



Giving top the 'Ghost. 


345 


Having spoken these words, that Lord Who is our glory, 16, 
and through Whom we all lift up our heads, bowed His own, 17 
and gave up the ghost. The travail which our Saviour had 
suffered during the whole of the past night had been such, that 
His life would have ended long before if He, by His divine 
power, had not sustained it. He Himself had said, 18 ‘ I have 
power to lay down My life in death, and I have power to take 
it again in resurrection, and no man can take it from Me by 
force, but I lay it down of My own will.’ No one, indeed, 
could deprive Him of life by force, seeing that all the violence 19 
which was employed by His enemies when they sought after 
His life was not sufficient to deprive Him of it, but that He 
sustained it as long as He willed to do so; that is to say, until 
there were fufilled in Him all the Scriptures and all the will of 
His Father. This being done, He said—‘ Now all is ended 
that I had to do and to suffer,’ and as one whose arm is still 
strong, and whose strength is undiminished, He broke forth 
into the loud cry in which He commended His Soul into the 
hands of His Father. As soon as He had uttered it He gave 
leave to death to come to Him, composing Himself to die with 
all the dignity and majesty which was due to His Person; for 
He died on His feet like a strong man, and in order that death 
might not displace His head, He Himself gently bowed it 
upon His breast, then the colour of death came over Him, His 
lips became purple, and His nostrils pinched, His whole Body 
quivered upon the Cross, and He gave up His Spirit into the 
hands of His Father, and His life and precious blood for the 
redemption of all men. 

His dead body remained hanging on the Cross after the 
Soul had left it, but still united to the Person of the Son of 
God. The Cross sustained on high that sacred Body which had 
offered itself for us, and presented to the eyes of God the price 
of our salvation and the Mediator of our reconciliation; and to 
the eyes of men, the consolation of our sorrows, the pattern of 
our life, the example and model of the predestinate, the captain 

16 Psalm iii. 4. 17 St. John xix. 30. 18 Ibid. x. 18. 

19 Psalm xxxvii. 13. 



346 


The Sacred Passion. 


of our conflicts, the guide of our pilgrimage, the support of our 
hope, and the incentive and spur of our love; the terror and 
fear of devils, the conqueror of death and of sin, the mirror of 
all charity, Who from the Cross itself as from a seat of doctrine 
is ever teaching, reproving, and exhorting us, as the Apostle 
says of Abel, 20 4 He being dead still speaketh ’— Et defunctus 
adhuc loquitur. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

Of the prodigies which took place after the death of our 

Saviour. 

All creatures were moved and all the elements quaked at the 
death of our Saviour, and there took place in the sight and 
before the presence of that sacred Body, many miracles and 
wonders, so that that was now made known of which the Prophet 
speaks when he says, 1 Cornua in manibus ejus , ibi abscondita est 
fortitudo ejus— 4 Horns are in His hands, there is His strength 
hid,’ that is, how great was the strength that there was in those 
stretched out arms and those nailpierced hands, and that there 
lay His strength, although it was hidden and concealed from the 
eyes of men. First, the sun, which had been miraculously 
obscured, by a new miracle withdrew from before itself that 
veil of darkness, (for it only lasted 2 from the sixth hour until 
the ninth hour), and when our Saviour expired it was now 
bright day, and the sun revealed by its rays our Saviour, that 
Image of God, that pattern of the predestinated, and that 
example of all holiness, in Whose death day was renewed after 
darkness, since by virtue of His death 3 new light began to 
dawn upon those who had lived and walked in darkness and in 
the region of death. 

20 Heb. xi. 4. 

1 Habacuc iii. 4. 2 St. Matt, xxvii. 45. 3 Isaias ix. 2. 




The Veil of the Temple. 


347 


Day having been restored with its natural and accustomed 
light, and our Saviour having expired, the earth quaked, and 
the rocks were rent, the sepulchres of the dead were opened, 
and the veil of the Temple was rent in twain from the top to 
the bottom, the dead rose, unbelievers believed, and sinners 
were converted. For the Centurion plainly declared that He 
Who had died upon the Cross was the true Son of God, and 
the crowd which was present at the spectacle smote their 
breasts and were converted. Thus, all the world mourned and 
celebrated the obsequies of the dead God with ceremonies 
which were truly meet for so sublime majesty. 

The first manifestation was made in the Temple, which was 
renowned for its greatness and magnificence, and reverenced 
for its sanctity by the whole world. This Temple was the 
house chosen by God among men to dwell among them, where 
also He might listen to their prayers during the time that the 
Synagogue, the law, the priesthood, and the ancient sacrifices 
remained. 

There was in it , 4 beyond the court or entrance, a place 
which was called Holy, and a still more secret place which was 
named Holy of Holies. The court was separated from the 
Holy Place by a great veil, which reached from the highest point 
down to the ground, and in like manner a second veil divided 
the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies. In the first taber¬ 
nacle, which was called the Holy Place, beyond the first veil, 
were the candlesticks and the table on which were set forth the 
loaves of propitiation, and the altar of sacrifice. Beyond the 
second veil, in the Holy of Holies, were the golden censer and 
the iVrk of the Testament, covered in every part with gold, 
within which there was nothing but a golden urn, filled with 
the manna with which God had sustained His people in the 
desert, and the rod of Aaron, that rod which alone amongst all 
those which had been offered by the princes of the twelve 
tribes, had blossomed 5 and borne fruit in the presence of the 
Lord while the others withered, as a sign that God had chosen 
Aaron to be Priest and had rejected the rest. There also were 
4 Heb. ix. 2. 5 Numbers xvii. 8. 



348 


The Sacred Passion . 


the tables of stone which Moses brought from Mount Sinai, 
and on which the Law was written. This was what there was 
in the ark, and above it were the gold cherub in of glory, 
looking to one another and overshadowing the Propitiatory. 
These three portions of the Temple were so arranged that the 
Holy Place was approached through the court, and the Holy of 
Holies through the Holy Place. The court was common to all, 
into the Holy Place the priests alone entered freely and com¬ 
monly, to perform the ordinary sacrifices, but into the Holy of 
Holies only the High Priest entered, and that not more than 
once a year, and then after having shed blood and offered 
sacrifice for himself and for the sins and ignorances of the 
people. 

We must know then that, at the moment when our 
Saviour died, these veils which were in the Temple, and which 
separated the place which was called Holy from the Holy of 
Holies, were rent in two from the top to the bottom, and 
although all the other signs which took place were very great, 
this was the greatest and most mysterious of them all. For the 
hardness and blindness of the Jews might have attributed the 
earthquake and the darkness to natural causes, while that the 
veil of the Temple should be rent was a thing that could not 
in any way be natural, but was a miraculous sign given by the 
hand of God Himself, Who, with the same wisdom and 
providence with which He had ordained that as long as the 
Old Law should endure, that veil should hang before the Holy 
of Holies, had also decreed that it should be torn asunder at 
the death of His Son. So it was made clear to all that grace 
and holiness had forsaken that Temple, those priests, and 
ceremonies, and that as there now remained nothing that was 
holy there, it was not necessary that it should remain a covered 
and secret place. 

That place then, which of old was sacred, now remained 
open and manifest before the eyes of all, and open so that 
every one might enter into it. Veils were no longer necessary, 
because the use and signification of them had ceased, nor was 
it requisite now to conceal truth by figures, for it had been 



The End of the Law. 


349 


revealed naked upon the Cross, and revealed to the eyes of the 
whole world. The Holy of Holies remained profaned, the 
veil was torn which forbade any to enter into it and see it, 
and the Ark of the Old Testament with its Propitiatory was 
uncovered like any other common and ordinary thing, whilst 
Mount Calvary, which had before been a vile and profane 
place, was converted into a Holy of Holies, because it con¬ 
tained in itself the Ark of the New Testament, in which were 
inclosed all the treasures of God, and the true Propitiatory, by 
means of which God was reconciling the world to Himself. 

In that ark there was nothing more than a vase of manna, 
the rod of Aaron, and the tables of the Law, all which things 
were now become vain and useless. For the Law had received 
its fulfilment in Jesus Christ; the rod of Aaron had terminated 
with his priesthood, and had yielded to the Cross which had 
been raised on Calvary as a sign of the eternal priesthood of 
Jesus Christ; and His sacred Body was the true manna, which 
has all the savour of sweetness, and is the sustenance of those 
who are pilgrims in the desert of this life. All these shadows 
were dissipated by the light, and all those figures had passed 
into truth. The whole sum of the divine mysteries was con¬ 
tained in Jesus Christ, Whose design it was, not to hide but to 
manifest Himself, and let Himself be known to all. For this 
He was lifted up on high, naked and stretched upon the Cross, 
that we might behold Him at our leisure and contemplate Him 
again and again. 

But inasmuch as, having been raised above the earth , 6 He 
was to draw all to Him by the power of His love and of His 
richness and beauty, therefore from that time the Synagogue 
remained empty, and its Temple a deserted house and without 
owners, and its ornaments became vile and despised things, 
and its sacrifices and ceremonies burthensome and without 
profit. And that the blind Jews might not aspire to cover the 
ignominy of their Synagogue behind those self same veils which 
before had been placed there as a sign of glory and sanctity, 
at the very moment that our Lord died they were torn of 
6 St. John xii. 33. 





350 


The Sacred Passion. 


themselves, and then was made manifest to all the world the 
little substance that remained in the things they concealed. 

But above all this, the Holy of Holies, as the Apostle says , 7 
signified the kingdom of heaven, which is the secret hidden 
from the eyes of mortal men, and where God especially dwells. 
The hiding of it thus behind a veil, and that no one was able 
to enter it except the High Priest alone, was intended by the 
Holy Ghost to teach us that the path to glory was not yet open, 
as long as that first Tabernacle existed with all its ornaments 
and ceremonies. 

But when Christ our Lord died , 8 Who is the High Priest of 
the New Testament, in Whom eternal goods are promised 
through His death, He presented Himself before His Eternal 
Father, entering into the Holy of Holies of glory through a 
tabernacle, not like that of the Synagogue, which had been 
made by the hands of men, of common and ordinary materials, 
but another greater and more perfect, that is to say, though the 
heavens themselves, through which He penetrated and opened 
a way whereby to pass to the other side of the veil and arrive at 
the right hand of the Father, the most sublime and highest 
seat of glory. 

And He did not enter by the blood of goats or of calves, 
but shedding His own blood, which He offered for the redemp¬ 
tion and cleansing from sins of the consciences of those who 
were to enter with Him and through Him to glory. For this it 
was not necessary that He should enter once every year by 
shedding anew the blood of animals, because He entered once 
only and then left the entrance free for ever, with an eternal 
redemption, and by blood which was powerful enough to wash 
away the sins of all ages. For this cause the veil of the Temple 
was rent, thereby showing that the path to heaven was as free, 
and the entrance into it as open, as was that of the Holy of 
Holies itself after the veil had been torn asunder which 
guarded it. 

All these causes were there for that new and most admirable 
sign, and they were the source of much sweet enjoyment to 
7 Heb. ix. 8. 8 Heb. ix. n. 



The Earthquake . 


35i 


those who, with pure faith and sincere devotion, believed in the 
Crucified and recognized and adored His power. But for the 
unbelieving and obstinate Jews it was a sign of great fear and 
of the wrath and indignation of God, when they saw that His 
Temple, in which they gloried as in the house of God, mani¬ 
fested grief for the death of our Lord, and its abomination of 
their impiety and blasphemy, and so despoiled itself of its 
ancient ornaments, and tore, as it were, with so much vehe¬ 
mence, its own vestments. 

Whilst this was passing within the Temple, there took place 
outside it a terrible and unusual earthquake , 9 from which it 
came that many great rocks were rent and split, and the earth 
trembled, acknowledging the presence and the majesty of its 
Creator, Who had triumphed so gloriously over His enemies, 
much more than when the Egyptians had been drowned and 
God had delivered His chosen people from slavery, and had 
led them through the desert to the promised land, free and 
victorious. For then the earth quaked and acknowledged the 
presence of God, and did Him reverence by trembling before 
Him, as is written in the Psalms : 10 Deus cum egredereris in 
conspectu populi tui , cum pertransiris in deserto , terra mota est — 
‘When Thou, O God, didst go forth in the sight of Thy 
people, when Thou didst pass through the desert, the earth 
trembled and was moved out of its place.’ And in another 
place it is said i 11 Montes exsultastis sicut arietes , et codes sicut 
agni ovium. A facie Domini mota est terra; a facie Dei Jacob — 

‘ The mountains skipped like rams, and the hills like lambs of 
the flock. At the presence of the Lord the earth was moved, 
at the presence of the God of Jacob.’ But if the earth gave 
signs of recognition when God was delivering His people from 
temporal slavery, and guiding them through the desert to 
another country, with how much greater reason would it mani¬ 
fest this feeling and recognition when our Lord was upon the 
Cross ! The earth quaked and the rocks were rent, and thus 
this element of the earth acknowledged the presence of its 
Maker, Who was triumphing gloriously over sin, over hell, and. 

9 St. Matt, xxvii. 51. 10 Psalm lxvii. 8. 11 Ibid, cxiii. 6. 



352 


The Sacred Passion. 


over death. And having redeemed His people from the slavery 
of the devil, He was leading them 12 in His mercy and sustaining 
them by His strength along the desert path of the Cross, until 
He should bring them in secure and perpetual freedom to the 
heavenly habitations. 

The earth trembled, likewise, to celebrate after its manner 
and by this token the obsequies of its Maker, and being the 
heaviest of created things and the lowest and grossest of the 
elements, it showed its feeling and gave what signs of its grief 
were in its power. And the hard rocks condemned the hard¬ 
ness and obstinacy of the Jews, since they were broken and 
rent asunder, and those others were not willing to be moved to 
compassion and penitence. 

The earth trembled, moreover, as a token and proof that 
hell was trembling beneath it and death which keeps its spoils 
inclosed therein. Death trembled when it saw itself so close to 
life; and having dared to do battle with our Lord, when it saw 
Him close, was amazed and affrighted, and having thought to 
swallow Him up and devour Him like other men, it was itself 
devoured and swallowed up in that infinite ocean of life, as 
says the Apostle , 13 Absorpta est mors in victoria —‘ Death is 
swallowed up and undone by so disastrous a victory.’ 

Our Lord, indeed, made such sport of death, that when it 
thought to make a prey of Him it became His prey, and He 
raised it up with Himself to the summit of the Cross, to cast 
it headlong thence, and break it in pieces for ever, as is written 
in Isaias , 14 Prcecipitabit mortem in sempiternum —‘ He will cast 
down death headlong for ever.’ That is to say, that on this 
mountain our Saviour was to hurl down death for ever. In 
this way, then, death came to die, and it was not possible that 
it should die of any other wound except from the embrace of 
life. Thus was fulfilled in the person of our Saviour what 
Osee had prophesied , 15 Ero mors , tua o mors —‘ O death, I 
will be thy death ! ’ 

And now death, as one conquered, in token of its submission, 
•delivered to our Saviour the keys of its fortresses and treasures, 

12 Exodus xv. 13. 13 1 Cor. xv. 54. 14 xxv. 8. 15 xiii. 14. 



Hell despoiled. 


353 


and our Lord, because He had died and had arisen alive and 
with glory from His sepulchre, was endowed with power over 
all the dead, and with the keys of the sepulchres to free them 
from prison whenever He so willed it. This He declares to His 
beloved disciple , 16 when He says, Ego sum primus , et novis- 
simus , et vivus , et fui mortuus; et ecce sum vivens in scecicla scecu- 
lorum , et habeo claves mortis et inferni —‘ I am the first and the 
lasty and alive and was dead, and behold I am living for ever 
and ever, and have the keys of death and of hell.’ By virtue 
of this power all men will rise again on the last day, and to give 
some evidence of this, when our Saviour rose again, many 
others of the saints rose with Him and came into the holy city 
of Jerusalem and discovered themselves and appeared unto 
many . 17 And although this resurrection of the saints did not 
take place until our Lord rose, nevertheless at His death there 
took place a great miracle. For at the moment that He 
expired death trembled at having attacked Him, and looking 
upon itself hereafter as conquered, yielded up possession of 
the tombs, which opened to give room for Life to enter through 
their gates, and the dead who were therein were left at the 
disposal of our Lord to raise them to the light of this life 
whenever it should suit Him to do so. 

Hell likewise trembled, together with the princes of dark¬ 
ness who presided in it. For as the Apostle says , 18 ‘ The Lord 
took out of their hands the handwriting of the condemnation 
which they had against men, nailing it with Him to the Cross, 
and blotting it out with His Blood, paying therewith completely 
for all sins.’ With this He despoiled the princes and powers of 
hell of the prisoners whom they retained, the holy Fathers, and of 
the right which they had upon all sinners, if by faith and works 
of penance they avail themselves of this redemption, and left 
them mocked and dismayed at this so memorable victory and 
most glorious triumph. So that when our Saviour descended 
personally into the kingdom of hell to gather these spirits 
which He had gained by His death, all the dwellers therein 
bent the knee to Him and did Him profound reverence. From 

Apoc. i. 18. 17 St. Matt, xxvii. 53. 18 Colos. ii. 14. 

X 


16 



354 


The Sacred Passion . 


that time the sign of the Cross has been fearful and terrible to- 
demons, because it is the figure of Christ our Lord crucified,, 
and because by it we were redeemed, and through it they were 
conquered and humiliated. On this Cross the executioners- 
stretched out His arms, and thereby revealed more clearly 
their greatness and power, because it was then that they were 
mighty and powerful 19 when so stretched out on the Cross. 
‘Then were the Princes of Edom troubled, and trembling 
seized on the stout men of Moab, and the inhabitants of 
Canaan fell down prostrate.’ Irruat super eos formido etpavor , 
in magnitudiiie brachii tub —‘ Let fear and dread fall upon them, 
O Lord, in the greatness of Thine arm.’ 

His enemies being thus conquered, the empire of the 
Crucified began to extend itself and to destroy the kingdom of 
sin. Faith, justice, and holiness began to flourish in the souls 
of men, because at the splendour of the Cross the darkness of 
their understandings began to vanish and the hardness of their 
hearts to melt. The Gentiles being those who had the least 
knowledge of God, and the soldiers being those who have 
usually less piety and devotion, in order that the efficacy of the 
Passion and Blood of our Lord might be more clearly revealed, 
the first among the multitude who were present who believed 
Him and confessed Him after His death, were soldiers and 
Gentiles. Thus was accomplished that which the Apostle says 20 
—‘That through the blood .of Jesus Christ those who some 
time were afar off were made nigh in Christ Jesus.’ And as, 
at the birth of our Saviour, when the Jews persecuted Him and 
Herod sought after Him to put Him to death, then the Gentiles 
who came from the East acknowledged and adored Him and 
offered Him gifts, so likewise now at His death, when the vile 
Jewish nation blaspherhed Him, the Gentiles honoured and 
glorified Him. For the Centurion (for so the man was called 
who commanded a hundred soldiers) who was standing 21 over 
against Him, and who had seen and observed all that had taken 
place, that is, how at the moment of His death He had cried 
out with a loud and firm voice, and with so much freedom 
19 Exodus xv. 15. 20 Eph. ii. 13. 21 St. Mark xv. 39. 



Conversions at the Cross . 


355 


had called God His Father, even after having been accused and 
condemned to death for having done so, and how with so much 
confidence He had commended His Spirit into His hands— 
considering all these things, and seeing the wonderful signs 
which had taken place after His death , 22 glorified God, and 
making a public confession of his faith, said that—‘Indeed this 
was a just Man ,’ 23 and that not only was He a just Man, but 
1 He was indeed the Son of God.’ 

The soldiers of the guard likewise , 24 who with the Centurion 
were keeping watch over the body of our Lord, having seen the 
earthquake, and the other things which took place, were filled 
with fear on account of the outrages they had committed and 
the blasphemies they also had uttered against Him. And giving 
thanks to God, and submitting themselves to Him with devout 
reverence and religious fear, they confessed the truth which they 
now knew, saying—‘ Indeed this was the Son of God.’ Not 
only, however, did the fruits of the Passion of Christ reach the 
Gentiles, but the Jews also, who having, before His death, blas¬ 
phemed Him in common with the Gentiles, so now after His 
death equally confessed Him. The Gentiles freely confessed that 
He was a just Man and the Son of God, and the Jews, who had 
had a greater share in the horrible crime of His death, abhorring 
their sin and being moved to repentance 25 at the sight of such 
a spectacle as this, mute and with their heads bowed down, 
returned to the city, striking their breasts. 

22 St. Luke xxiii. 47. 23 St. Mark xv. 39. 24 St. Matt, xxvii. 54. 

25 St. Luke xxiii. 48. 


X 2 



CHAPTER XLV. 

A soldier opens the side of our Saviour after His death. 

With all this the Chief Priests remained still hardened in their 
disbelief and obstinacy, and sought out new ways of insulting 
and outraging our Saviour in His burial, even as they had done 
in His death, covering all with the cloak of religion and sanctity. 
There was a law in Deuteronomy in which 1 God commanded 
that when a man for his crime had been condemned to death, 
and hanged on a gibbet, his dead body should not remain on 
the tree, but should be buried the same day. And the law gives 
the reason— Quia maledidus a Deo est qui pendet in ligno; et 
nequaquam contaminabis terrain tuam quant Dominus Deus tuus 
dederit tibi in possessionem —‘For he is accursed of God that 
hangeth on a tree, and it is not meet that the land which the 
Lord thy God has given thee should be contaminated by the 
sight of a dead body.’ Our Lord subjected Himself 2 to this 
curse, which was due to our sins, that we might receive the 
benediction due to His virtues. The priests then desired to 
fulfil this law by burying Him the same day. Another reason 
was alleged by them in addition to this, that the day following 
was a Sabbath , 3 and a very great and solemn Sabbath day, on 
account of its being also one of the days of the Pasch, and the 
people who had come from a distance to the festival were 
detained in the city, and could not go on their journey to their 
homes, so that on this Sabbath day the concourse was greater 
than usual. 

This Sabbath day, then, being so solemn, it was not meet 
that the bodies should remain hanging on the crosses on that 
day, as the festival might have been disturbed, and even, as 
1 Deut. xxi. 22. 2 Gal. iii. 13. 3 St. John xix. 31. 


The Breaking of the Legs. 


357 


they thought, defiled by the sight of those malefactors, and the 
minds of the people diverted from the purport of the solemnity 
by the presence of those dead bodies, and they would take 
occasion to talk about the matter each according to his own 
liking and opinion. And as the concourse of people was great, 
the opinions held by them different, the signs which had 
followed upon the death of our Lord so wonderful—and as a 
great part of those who had been present were seized with 
compunction, and the Centurion and his soldiers had openly 
confessed that He was a just Man and the Son of God—all 
these things were fresh cause for rage and fury to the Chief 
Priests, and tended to their shame and confusion, and they 
feared lest some uproar should break out amongst the people 
and that thus a fire might be kindled which it would not be 
afterwards in their power to reduce and bring low. And they 
could find no better means to prevent these evils than to 
remove from the eyes of the people the body of our Lord, and 
to bury it, in order together with it to bury His memory, so 
that no one might remember or speak of Him any more. 

For these reasons, and not to do Him honour, they began 
to treat about His burial even before they thought He was 
dead. And to cover their iniquity, according to their wont, 
with a mask of holiness and religion, they went to the Governor 
and besought him that, on account of the festival and its being 
their Sabbath, he would command the legs of the crucified to 
be broken and their bodies to be buried. It was the custom 
to inflict this torture of breaking the legs upon executed 
criminals, whenever, because the death of the cross being very 
tedious, they desired to bring about death sooner, and so free 
the officers of justice from the attendance they were obliged 
to give. 

But in desiring that this should be done in the case of our 
Saviour, they did Him injury and insult in many ways. First, 
because they insisted upon treating His cause and that of the 
two thieves as one and the same, by asking for Him and for 
them the same kind of torment and of burial. It is certain, 
then, that having Him crucified between the two thieves was 



358 


The Sacred Passion. 


but the overflowing of their malice to dishonour our Lord, as 
well as to persuade the people that the manner in which they 
were treating Him was as just as the manner in which they 
were treating the thieves. But to persevere in this intent was 
manifest obstinacy and pertinacity. The signs that had taken 
place had been so terrible, and all were persuaded that God 
had decreed them to do honour to His Son thereby and to 
publish His innocence ; and it did not enter the minds of any 
that these wonders had been performed for the sake of the 
thieves who suffered together with Him. The High Priests 
alone perfidiously closed their eyes to all that the people saw, 
and, without desiring to do reverence to Him to Whom all the 
creatures and the elements paid homage, they went to Pilate 
and presented to him a petition which included in common all 
three who had been crucified, asking ut frangerentur eorum 
crura , et tollerentur —“ that their legs might be broken and that 
they might be taken away.” Moreover, this fresh torture by 
which they desired to put an end to the life of our Saviour, was 
very great, and equally great was the outrage inflicted thereby 
upon Him in leaving Him with His bones broken and His 
body terribly lacerated; a thing never done excepting with the 
vilest criminals, and of such a nature that our Lord, having 
subjected Himself to all kinds of torture and illtreatment, 
would not permit this to be done to His dead body, but, on 
the contrary, He had distinctly forbidden and provided against 
it in the sacrifice of the lamb, the express symbol of His death, 
when He said , 4 Os non coimninuetis ex eo —‘You shall not break 
& bone of him.’ 

This prophecy and decree of our Lord, declared so many 
years before on that solemn ceremony, was accomplished in 
spite of His enemies who asked for the contrary. Although 
they had been able to crucify Him with the thieves, they had 
not been able to keep life in Him and prevent Him from dying 
before them. Our Lord died when He willed it, and forestalled 
the diligence of the High Priests by His death, so that when 
the soldiers came to execute the commands of the judge, they 
4 St. John xix. 36. 



359 


Piercing the Side. 


broke the legs of the first of the thieves, that is, of the one 
■who was on the right hand, and who, after having believed in 
and confessed Jesus Christ, receiving this pain with patience, 
increased his merits and obtained a happy end to his torments, 
and by having his legs broken entered all the more quickly into 
his rest, in fulfilment of the promise made to him by our 
Saviour—‘This day thou shalt be with Me in Paradise.’ 
Afterwards they broke the legs of his fellow malefactor who had 
been crucified with him. But when they came to Jesus with 
the intention to inflict the same outrage on Him, finding that 
He was already dead they desisted from their intent and did 
not break His legs, God making this difference between the 
innocent and the culpable, and so disposing all things in order 
that other still greater miracles and mysteries should be worked 
in the dead body of our Saviour. 

For now one of the soldiers who was there 5 ran with great 
fury against the dead body of our Lord and opened His right 
■side with a spear, piercing His Heart entirely through with it. 
For so was it revealed to St. Bridget . 6 Et sic stantibus turbis 
in circuitu venit unus accurrens cum furia maxima , et injixit 
lanceam in ejus latere dextro tarn vehemenier et valide , quod 
yquasi per aliam partem corporis lancea voluit pertransire. And 
in another place she says, In corde punctus erat , tarn amare et 
immisericorditer , quod pungens non destitit , dum lancea attigit 
costam, et ambce partes cordis essent in lancea. ‘ The body of the 
Lord,’ says the Saint, ‘ being surrounded by the multitude, one 
of the soldiers came running with great fury, and with a lance 
pierced His right side with such force and vehemence that it 
•seemed as if the lance were about to pierce through to the 
other side.’ And again, ‘He was so cruelly and so mercilessly 
wounded, that he who pierced Him was not satisfied until the 
spear reached the side and had pierced through the whole of 
His breast from the one side to the other.’ And thus our sins 
also pierced His loving Heart when He was alive, even as the 
soldier pierced it when He was dead. 

5 St. John xix. 34. 

6 Lib. vii. Revel, c. 15, prope finem. 




36 o 


The Sacred Passion. 


If we examine into the intention of the soldier who did this, 
it appears that it sprang from his wantonness and anger, being 
filled as he was with indignation that our Saviour should so 
soon have died, and that by His death He should have pre¬ 
vented them from breaking His legs and thereby have escaped 
further torments and insults from the soldiers and the Jews. 
As, therefore, he could not now torment and outrage Him 
living, he determined to show what was in his mind by piercing 
His dead body with the lance. For it was the height of 
inhumanity and cruelty thus to vent his rage against a dead 
body, and to pierce it through the heart, which is the fountain 
of life. And therefore Holy Church, calling the wood of the 
Cross sweet, and sweet the nails by which was suspended upon 
it the sweet burthen of the body of our Lord, Duke lignum , 
dulces clavos , duke pondus sustinens , calls on the other hand the 
iron of the lance hard and cruel, Quo vulneratus insuper mucrone 
diro lancece. For if it was cruel to wound His Heart whilst He 
was yet alive, it was not less inhuman to wound it after death. 
But if we consider the sweetness of the Heart of our Lord, we 
shall find that the lance is much sweeter than the nails and the 
Cross, because, if the Cross and the nails touched the Body and 
the Feet and Hands of our Lord, the lance touched His Heart 
and opened out to us a gate and path into it. 

Sed unus militum lancea latus ejus aperuit —‘One of the 
soldiers opened His side with a lance.’ On which St. Augustine 
says , 7 Vigilanti verbo Evangelista usus est , ut non diceret , latus ejus 
percussit , aut vulneravit, aut quid aliud , etc.—‘ The Evangelist 
uses this word very advisedly, for he does not say that the 
soldier wounded or struck the side of our Lord, but that he 
opened it, showing thereby that he opened a door by which we 
might freely enter into the Heart of Jesus Christ, and through 
which the treasures of His Heart might come forth and commu¬ 
nicate themselves to us.’ For if the life of each one of us 
issues from his heart, and it is because of this that the Wise Man s 
counsels us to keep it with all watchfulness, so from the Heart 
of Jesus Christ was to issue the life of all men. For this cause- 
7 Tom. x. s. 120, in Joan. 8 Prov. iv. 23. 



The Birth of the Church. 361 


it was not meet that He should keep it for Himself alone, but 
that He should allow Himself to be wounded in it, and that 
although He was dead, the gate of life should be opened in His 
side, that by His death we might all live, and that by the life 
which comes forth from Him we might rise again. 

In this way the Church was formed out of the side of our 
Lord when He was reclining on the Cross , 9 as a type of which 
the first woman was taken out of the man when he was asleep. 
Although Adam was sunk in a deep sleep, Eve came forth 
alive and awake, and was called the mother of all the living. 
This was a great sacrament , 10 in which was represented the 
union of the Church with Jesus Christ, Who was laid on the 
Cross with His head inclined, in manner and guise as one who 
sleeps, and from His opened side came forth the blood and the 
water out of which His Spouse was formed and beautified. 
Our Lord being dead, the Church came forth alive, the Mother 
of all those who live by virtue of the death of Jesus Christ our 
Lord. O death, by which the dead are restored to life !: 
O wound, by which all wounds are healed! O blood, by 
which the unclean are cleansed ! This is the consolation of 
the sorrowing, the strength of the tempted, the refuge of the 
afflicted. Through this gate enter and come forth the holy 
bees to make their honeycombs in the secret of the Heart of 
Jesus. ‘This is the rock where the conies hide themselves , 11 
and whither those fly who have wings like a dove / 12 there to 
find their rest and their healing. This is the door which God 
commanded Noe to make in the side of the ark , 13 that all 
those privileged creatures who were destined not to perish in 
the Flood should enter by it. This is the open gate of the 
city of refuge , 14 where malefactors are secure from the anger of 
God. This is the golden and beautiful gate of the true Temple 
of God , 15 where beggars and sick always receive health and 
mercy. This is the gate of Paradise, which was closed by the 
sin of the first Adam, and opened through the merits of the 

9 Gen. ii. 21. 10 Ephes v. 32. 

11 Psalm ciii. 18. 12 Ibid. liv. 7. 13 Gen. vi. 16. 

14 Deut. xix. 12. 15 Acts iii. 2. 




362 


The Sacred Passion. 


second, and of which He had Himself said 16 — 1 1 am the door, 
by Me if any man enter in he shall be saved.’ This is the 
door the golden key of which is kept by the privileged friends 
and favourites of God. Oh, how despised are the gates of the 
palaces of kings, and the favours and graces of princes, by those 
who have license to enter by this door into the cellar of precious 
wines 17 and into the secret chamber of God ! Hcecporta Domini; 
justi intrabunt in earn. 18 This is the forge on which there is a 
continual blazing fire, whereby our hearts may be enkindled, 
and where they are continually being moulded into the image 
of God. This is the proof of the fervent love and immeasurable 
charity of our Saviour, that He not only keeps His arms 
stretched out in order to receive us within them, but keeps 
His Heart open that He may receive us therein also. 

And if the Apostle says that his heart is enlarged, 19 and 
that all the faithful might be contained in it without its being 
straitened, how much more wide and how much more spacious 
is the Heart of Jesus Christ to embrace within itself all of His 
infinite charity? For a dwelling so vast and so glorious, it was 
meet that there should be opened in His side a door by which 
He should invite us to enter in. Thus it is that breastplate of 
the High Priest of the New Testament, 20 which was one single 
stone, and bore written upon it, not twelve names only, but 
in truth the names of all mankind. And although He received 
this wound after death, He kept it after He became alive again, 
to be an ornament of His glorified and resuscitated body, and 
a fountain of light' and of love. Through this the Apostle 
St. Thomas, 21 touching it and putting his fingers into the 
wound, had his understanding suddenly enlightened with a 
dazzling flame of faith, and his will burnt up with a burning 
fire of love. 

Oh, how sweetly does our Saviour feast, how wonderfully 
draw to Himself, how strongly does He inebriate, His chosen 
ones, with the sovereign wine which flows, from this divine 
fountain ! How greatly He favours His friends by giving them 

16 St. John x. 9. 17 Cant. ii. 4.* 18 Psalm cxvii. 20. 

19 2 Cor. vi. 11. 20 Exodus xxviii. 11. 21 St.John xx. 27. 



The Blood and Water. 


363 


a door in His side whereby to enter into the inmost depths of 
His Heart, and to embrace them in it with the arms of most 
close friendship and familiar intercourse ! This is true love, 
these are true favours, not such as are bestowed by man. For 
this reason our Lord, after His Resurrection, in order to collect 
again and cheer up His Apostles, who were all timorous and 
scared, showed them, when He appeared to them, His hands 
and His side, that in them they might see the excessive great¬ 
ness of the love with which He loved them and all the Church. 
For if of old He had said 22 —‘Thou hast wounded My Heart, 
My sister, thou hast wounded My Heart,’ now it is not only 
wounded, but He keeps it entirely open. Unus militum lancea 
latns ejns aperuit. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 

Out of the wounded, side of our Lord comes forth blood 
and water. 

Ex continuo exivit sanguis et aqua. As the soldier drew the 
lance out of the side of our Lord, immediately there came out 
of it a fountain of blood and water, which bathed the whole 
body and flowed down even to the ground. O abyss of divine 
generosity! There always remains something for God to give 
us! He has already given us His life, which is all that one 
friend can give for another, and, as it seemed, shed the whole 
of His blood through the wounds in His feet and hands. But 
it was not fitting that He should have nothing to give us poor 
sinners from so noble a gate which He had opened in His side, 
and so He gave us also the few drops of blood which, in the 
anguish of death, had collected themselves to sustain His 
divine Heart, and which now, like a precious liquor, flowed 
22 Cant. iv. 9. 





364 


The Sacred Passion. 


from its broken and shattered vessel, till there was not left a 
single drop therein. To prove this there came forth water with 
and after the blood, because that was the last blood He had; 
and so our Saviour remained on the Cross a lively and express 
image of the divine bounty, His Heart opened that He might 
give and shed Himself forth for us, and His arms extended to 
receive His creatures. 

The first to receive this blessing from the wound in the 
side was the soldier who inflicted it, and who, according to 
general opinion, was called Longinus, 1 and he was blind, or as 
seems more likely and is affirmed by St. Isidore, blind in one 
eye only. When he opened the side of our Lord, the blood and 
water which came out of it flowed down the lance until they 
touched his hands, and anointing his eyes with that sacred 
liquor, he was restored to perfect bodily sight; and what is 
more, he was enlightened in his soul likewise, that by lively 
faith he might know Who that Lord was Who was dead on the 
Cross. Then he believed in Him, and was afterwards baptized 
by the Apostles, and full of sanctity, came to die a Bishop and 
Martyr, the Church making a remembrance of him on the 
15th of March. Such was the effect produced in him by the 
blood and water which flowed on him from the side of our 
Lord ! The remainder which ran down upon the ground, says 
Nicephorus, 2 was collected by the Blessed Virgin and the 
beloved disciple, who were close at hand, into a vessel, and 
preserved with great piety and reverence. 

And as the Evangelist says that blood and water flowed 
out of His side, it was not any phlegm or humour, as some 
imagine, but true water which came miraculously from His 
body; as that blood should flow from a body that was already 
dead was a miracle. 3 Our Lord decreed that thus it should 
be, in order by so clear a proof to prove that His Body was 
not a phantom, but a real body, for the blood showed that 
His Body was made of the four humours, and the water also 

1 August, in Manual, c. 23; Nazianz. in Frag, de Christo patien. 

2 Niceph. Callist. Hist. 1 . 1, c. xxx. 

3 St. Thomas, 3 part, c. 66, art. 4 ad 3 et q. 74, art. 7 ad. 3. 



Mystery of the Water and Blood. 365 


showed that it was made of the four elements, of which water 
is one. 

It is much to be noted with what strong words the Evange¬ 
list confirms this history, saying, 4 ‘ One of the soldiers with a 
spear opened His side, and immediately there came out blood 
and water, and he that saw it with his eyes hath given testi¬ 
mony, and his testimony is true. And we know that he saith 
true, that ye also may believe.’ He would certainly not have 
said these words so urgently if he had not meant to convey by 
them that in this blood and water which flowed out of the side 
of the Lord was contained not only a great miracle, but also a 
great mystery. 

What this mystery was the same Evangelist who saw it, and 
observed it standing at the foot of the Cross, and who wrote it 
down in his Gospel, himself declares in these words, 5 Quis est 
qui vincit mundum , nisi qui credit quoniam Jesus est Filius Deil 
Hie est qui venit per aquam et sangitinem, Jesus Christus: non 
in aqua solum , sed in aqua et sanguine. Et spiritus est qui testi- 
Jicaiur quoniam Christus est veritas. 1 For who is he,’ he says, 

‘ that overcometh the world but he that believeth that Jesus is 
the Son of God?’—He Who taught us by His example to tread 
vain honours under foot, and to despise riches, and to fly from 
the delights and pleasures of the flesh, and Who taught to us 
the vanity of temporal things, and Who gained for us and 
promised us those that were to come. No one, then, over¬ 
comes the world but he who believes that Jesus is the Son of 
God, and therefore follows His example as the right one, and 
believes His doctrine as the only true one, and expects His 
promises as being secure and certain, and who avails himself of 
His blood in order to obtain pardon for his sins, and avails 
himself of His grace to conquer in the present conflict, and 
participates in His merits, that through them he may enter on 
the good things which are to come. 

Hie est qui venit per aquam et sanguinem , Jesus Christus , 
non i?i aqua solum , sed in aqua et sanguine. He of Whom we 
speak and of Whom we must believe that He is the Son of 
4 St. John xix. 34, 35. 5 1 St. John v. 5. 




366 


The Sacred Passion. 


God, is Jesus Christ, Who came into the world by water and 
by blood, not by water only, but by water and blood. The 
Precursor, St. John Baptist, came by water only, as he himself 
says, 6 ‘ I baptize with water only; ’ therefore his baptism was 
not efficacious for the washing away of sins. But the baptism 
of Jesus Christ was efficacious for the washing away of sins by 
the blood which He shed on the Cross, because Jesus Christ 
came by blood. 

Hence it is that several times during the course of His life 
did our Lord unite together these two things, water and blood. 
As a Child of a week old He shed tears together with the 
blood of His circumcision. At the Last Supper He washed 
the feet of His disciples with water that He might afterwards 
give them to drink of His blood. In the chalice He mixed 
water with the wine that He was about to convert into 
His blood; and in the Garden, being in an agony, blood 
was mingled with His sweat. Who shall say how many tears 
during the course of His Passion flowed from His eyes, 
and mingled with the blood that flowed from His veins ? for 
St. Paul tells us that in the days when His life lasted, 7 ‘He 
offered up His prayers and supplications to God with strong 
cries and with tears.’ Finally, after His death there came forth 
from His side true water and blood. Jesus Christ, then, came 
not by water only, or blood only, but by blood and water, to 
show us the effect His blood would have, which was to wash 
away the stains of sin. For this St. John says, 8 that one of the 
ancients who were before the throne of the Lamb, showing 
him the saints clothed in white robes, asked of him, 1 Those 
clothed in white robes, who are they, and whence came they ? ’ 
And he answered, c My lord, thou knowest.’ And the ancient 
said to him, ‘ These are they who have come out of many and 
great tribulations, and have washed their robes and have made 
them white in the blood of the Lamb.’ Thus although with 
good reason the robes which are dyed in blood remain tinged 
with its colour, yet notwithstanding, the blood of the Lamb, 
although in its substance it is blood, yet in effect it washes and 
6 St. John i. 26. 7 Heb. v. 7. 8 Apoc. vii. 13. 



Ancient figures. 


367 


whitens vestments, even as though it were water. Therefore 
Jesus Christ came by water and by blood, and not by water 
only, but by water mingled with blood. 

Et Spiritus est qui testijicatur quonicim Christus est veritas. 
It is the Spirit which testifies that Jesus Christ is the truth, 
because in the Old Law, which was the period of darkness and 
of figures, Moses likewise came, who was a faithful minister of 
God, and he came by water and by blood. On account of 
which, the first sign he gave whereby to chastise the Egyptians 
and punish the obstinacy of Pharoah, and to prove that he 
came in the name of God, 9 was to turn all the water into' 
blood; and the last sign, 10 by which he accomplished the 
deliverance of His people, was to drown the same Egyptians 
in the sea, which, being called the Red Sea, was a representa¬ 
tion of water and blood. All the flesh of the sacrifices was 
washed with water, which thus became mixed with blood, and 
being sprinkled with it, men were cleansed from all impurities 
and irregularities under the Law. That pool at Jerusalem 11 in 
which the sick were healed of whatever infirmity was on them 
when the water was moved by an Angel is said by many to> 
ha^fe been the bloody water in which these sacrifices had been 
washed. And the same Moses, 12 also, in order to dedicate the- 
Old Testament, and to confirm the covenant which was then 
made between God and man, and consecrate the tabernacle 
and all the vessels destined for use therein for divine worship, 
took the blood of goats and calves mixed with water, and with 
it sprinkled the book of the Law, and all the people, and the 
tabernacle and vessels. There was hardly anything under the 
Old Law which was not purified with blood and water. 

But, although in the Old Law there was blood and water, 
it was all shadow and figure, and, as it were, dead ceremonies 
without spirit; and the spirit which was communicated in the law 
of grace gave testimony that Jesus Christ was the substance of 
those shadows, and the truth of those figures. 13 For although 
the Law was given by Moses, grace and truth came by Jesus. 

9 Exodus vii. 20. 10 Ibid. xiv. 27. 11 St. John v. 2. 

12 Heb. ix. 19; Exodus xxiv. 8. 13 St.John i. 17. 



The Sacred Passion. 


368 


Christ Therefore it was not without cause that our Saviour 
willed that, after His death, His Heart should be opened, which 
is the principle of life and the seat of the vital powers, that it 
might be understood that the water and blood which flowed 
from it were not dead and powerless things, but lifegiving and 
efficacious, and that they were united with His Spirit for the 
life and redemption of the world. 

O most precious blood by which we are redeemed ! O most 
pure water with which we are cleansed! Water by which we 
are regenerated in the divine and spiritual existence, and blood 
by which we are sustained and fed therein. O death, by which 
the dead are raised to life! O spirit, which came forth from 
the breast of Christ, which is the breath of all who live ! Blood 
and water came, then, from His side. What is purer than this 
blood ? what more efficacious than this water, by which, through 
the power of the Holy Ghost, we are purified and made white? 
Certainly the Blood of Jesus Christ was efficacious in washing 
away our sins by the power of the Spirit, that is, because it is 
united with the Divinity and the Person of the Son of God. 
Hence it derives all its value; or because it was shed by the 
power of the Holy Spirit, Who interiorly moved Jesus Christ 
our Lord to shed His blood through His love and His obe¬ 
dience to God alone. Therefore, the Apostle says, ‘If the 
blood of goats and calves 14 and water, 15 mixed with the ashes 
of the red heifer, which were dead and spiritless things, cleansed 
those who were unclean according to the Law, how much more 
shall the blood of Jesus Christ, Who offered Himself as an 
unspotted and stainless victim in the fire of the Holy Ghost, 
have living power, by the same Spirit, to cleanse our con¬ 
sciences from dead works to raise us to a new life, that by 
works of life we may serve and please the living God ? ’ In 
like manner water has the power of washing us, renewing, and 
regenerating us in the new spiritual creation of grace, not of 
itself, but by the power of the Holy Ghost, according to what 
our Saviour Himself said to Nicodemus, 16 ‘Amen, amen, I say 
to thee, unless a man be bom again of water and the Holy 
14 Heb. ix. 13. 15 Num. xix. 9. 16 St. John iii. 5. 



The Old and New Covenants. 


369 


Ghost, he cannot enter the kingdom of heaven.’ So that 
water, which in itself is sterile, is endowed by the Holy Spirit 
with power to regenerate in Christ all the baptized. 

In this manner the new people of God were regenerated 
through water and blood, by the power of the Holy Ghost, and 
the new law of grace and of the New Testament between God 
and man was established and confirmed by the blood and 
water which flowed from the side of Jesus Christ. As of old 
also, the Old Testament, being a figure of the New, was 
dedicated with water mixed with the blood of animals. For 
Moses having read to all the people 17 the book of the Law, 
which contained all the things which God enjoined on His 
people and the promises He made unto it, the people bound 
themselves on their part to fulfil and obey these command¬ 
ments, and Moses on the part of God, and as His minister, 
bound himself that all the promises should be certain and 
firm. In order to give greater force to this agreement, he took 
the blood of the sacrifices and Water with it, 18 and then, on 
the part of God, sprinkled with it the book of the Law, and 
afterwards on the part of the people sprinkled them all with it, 
saying, ‘ This is the blood with which is confirmed this covenant 
which God now makes with you.’ 

Et Spiritus est qui iestificatur quoniam Christus est veritas — 
‘It is the Spirit which testifies that Jesus Christ is the truth of 
these figures.’ 19 For, indeed, what had the pact and covenant 
that God made by means of Moses with the ancient people, to 
do with the covenant which He made by means of Jesus Christ 
with the Church until the end of the world ? The command¬ 
ments of that old covenant were burthensome and the promises 
temporal, and therefore the blood with which it was confirmed 
was to be that of brute animals. But now in the season of grace, 
the commandments are sweet and of love and the promises 
of eternal goods, and the blood with which all are confirmed 
is that pure blood shed by Jesus Christ. And so, as Moses 
after he had read the law sprinkled the book and the people 
with water and the blood of victims, so the true Moses, 

17 Exodus xxiv. 7. 18 Heb. ix. 19. 19 Heb. vii. 22. 

Y 




370 


The Sacred Passion. 


from His high and lofty place read to the Church which 
was to last until the end of the world all that was best and 
most perfect in the law and commandments of God. The 
book was no other than Himself, displayed like an open book 
upon the Cross, and in which was written in blood the most 
wonderful examples He had given of perfect obedience to the 
commands of God. There is no other book in which we 
can better read in what manner God ought to be obeyed 
and honoured than in Jesus Christ crucified. As a good 
and faithful Mediator, He offered to the Eternal Father for 
His people the priceless treasure of His merits, and on their 
part likewise offered an obedience to His commandments such 
and so perfect as to be an imitation of His own, with which 
the Father showed Himself to be well pleased, since in order 
not to lose obedience He gave up His life, being obedient 
even unto death and that the death of the Cross. On the 
other hand He promised to men on the part of God the pardon 
of their sins, the help of His grace, and the reward of glory, for 
all which He made an abundant payment through the value of 
His most precious travails and by His life and death. 

This compact being made between God and men, our Lord 
being already dead and the New Testament having been 
rendered firm and valid by His death, to the end that there 
should be wanting to its stability none of the solemnities which 
had been prefigured in the Old (O glory of the Crucified!), 
there came forth from His side the blood and water with which 
the book of the Law, and the people chosen and called by God 
to keep it and to enjoy its promises, might be sprinkled. But 
as the principal book in which we read the commandments and 
the counsels of the law of grace is Jesus Christ crucified, and 
as this same Lord, as Mediator between God and men, appeared 
before men in the name of God as the true Son of God, and 
before God in the name of men as true Man and Head of all 
mankind—hence it is that this our Lord, to complete the 
whole solemnity in the name of the two parties who were 
binding themselves, and He being Himself the book in which 
is contained the commandments and the promises of His 



The Witnesses. 


371 


Testament, now shed forth a fountain of blood and water which 
came from Him as the true and only Victim, and in this He 
bathed Himself as High Priest of the law of grace, and afterwards 
bathed therein in due order His mystical body which is the 
Church. All those who are called into her are sprinkled with 
this blood and water in the participation of the holy Sacra¬ 
ments. And none is chosen in the eternal predestination of 
God to the sanctification of his soul and to obedience to the 
Divine commandments, save through this sprinkling of the 
blood of Jesus Christ, as says the Apostle St. Peter. Petrus 
Apostolus Jesus Christus electis advents, etc., in sanctificationem 
spiritus , in obedientiam , et aspersionem sanguinis Jesu Christi — 
‘Peter an Apostle of Jesus Christ, to the strangers, etc., chosen 
to the sanctification of the spirit to obedience and sprinkling 
of the blood of Jesus Christ/ 

These are the testimonies we have that Jesus Christ is true 
Man, and true God and Redeemer, and the Sanctifier of men, 20 
Quoniam tres simt qui testimonium dant in coelo: Pater , Verbum , 
et Spiritus Sanctus ; et hi tres unum stmt. Et tres sunt qui testi¬ 
monium dant in terra ; Spiritus , et aqua , et sanguis; et hi tres 
unum sunt —‘And there are Three who give testimony in heaven, 
the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost; and these Three 
are one. And there are three that give witness on earth, the 
spirit and the water and the blood, and these three are one.’ 
There are three, says the Evangelist, that give witness in heaven 
that Jesus Christ is the true God—the Eternal Father Who at 
the river Jordan and on Mount Tabor, said, ‘This is My beloved 
Son;’ the Word Who said, ‘I and My Father are one;’ and the 
Holy Spirit Who descended on Him in the form of a dove, and 
by means of the Apostles testified to His divinity, and inspired 
them with faith that they might believe in Him. And these three 
witnesses are one and the same thing in their substance, and 
agree in their saying and testimony. Other three witnessesr 
there are on earth which give witness that He is true Man; that 
is to say, His spirit which He breathed out upon the Cross, and 
His body which remained suspended upon it, from which flowed 
20 i St. John v. 7, 8. 



372 


The Sacred Passion. 


blood and water, and He could not but be true Man seeing that 
He had a true soul and a true body. That is a true soul in 
whose presence the body lives, and by whose absence it dies, 
and that is a true body which is composed of the four elements 
and the four humours, such as was that body from which, after 
death, flowed blood and water. There are three then which give 
witness upon earth that Jesus Christ is true Man, His Spirit which 
expired on the Cross, and the water and blood which flowed from 
His body, and all three witnesses are unanimous and agree in 
their testimony. These same witnesses also teach us that Jesus 
Christ is our Sanctifier and Redeemer, seeing that for us He 
delivered up His precious Spirit into the hands of His Father, 
and redeemed us by His blood, and washed us with the water 
of His holy baptism. And He could not be other than true 
God and Redeemer, Who gave us water which by the power of 
the Sacrament can regenerate us, and Who shed blood which 
availed for the redemption of the world. 

In this way the Body of our Saviour on the one hand was 
still hanging on the Cross in a public and infamous place, and 
on the other hand His precious blood was presented in the 
presence of God for the remission of our sins and the redemp¬ 
tion of the whole world. This was prefigured by the sacrifices 
which were offered of old for sin, as the Apostle deeply con¬ 
templates in writing to the Hebrews 21 —‘These animals,’ he 
says, ‘whose blood is brought into the Holies by the High 
Priest for sin, their bodies are taken outside the gate and are 
burned there.’ For God had commanded 22 that the calves and 
goats which had been sacrificed for the sin of the priests or 
princes, or for the whole people, should be brought before the 
door of the tabernacle, and those who had committed the sin 
should put their hands upon their heads, after which they should 
sacrifice them, and the blood be taken by the priests into the 
tabernacle, and the body carried forth without the camp that it 
might be burnt. 

In order that this might be fulfilled, and that the figure 
should correspond with the truth, Jesus Christ our Lord, having 
21 xiii. ii. 22 Lev. iv. 4. 




Outside the Gate. 


n >7 "> 
0/0 


to sanctify the people with His blood, suffered outside the gate 
of the city, and His body remained hanging on a tree in the 
field and in the place common to other criminals . 23 Exeamus 
igitur ad eum extra castra, improperium ejus portantes , non enim 
habemus hie manentem civitatein , sed futuram inquirimus —‘ And 
since He suffered without the city, let us go therefore to Him 
without the camp, like Him bearing our cross, and making our¬ 
selves participators in His shame and His sufferings.’ Let us come 
forth from our pleasures, and our honours, let us come forth from 
our houses and our lands, and let us come forth out of ourselves. 
In order to come forth in this manner, the Cross will bear us if 
we will bear it, and, if tribulations and trials follow us as long as 
we remain in this world, let not the. leaving this world weigh 
upon us, since we shall go forth to that Lord Who suffered out¬ 
side the gate of the city that He might overcome the world. 
And if those who are strangers, and are merely passing through 
a city, do not grieve at going forth from it and setting forward 
on the road to their own country, let us not be disturbed if the 
world casts us out, for in it we have no abiding city, but we are 
in search of a city which is to come, which is eternal and which 
is outside this world. 


23 Heb. xiii. 13, 14. 




CHAPTER XLVII. 


Pilate gives permission that the Body of our Saviour 
should be taken down from the Cross and buried. 

Our Lord persevered in remaining on the Cross until He 
died upon it, and after His death His body remained sus¬ 
pended there until His side was opened and gave out the 
blood which remained in it and the water with which the 
Church was to be washed and beautified, and until all those 
that desired it had seen Him and had recognized Him placed 
there is so much torment. The soldiers kept guard over Him, 
that no one might take Him down, and that thus His shame 
might last longer than His life, for a public warning to other 
malefactors. The Jews blasphemed Him before He expired,, 
saying, ‘ If Thou art the Son of God, come down from the 
Cross.’ And that blind and faithless people did not perceive 
that in nothing did He more clearly show Himself to be the 
Son of God than in not descending from the Cross, merely at 
their desire and because of their authority. For that most 
loving Son having ascended the Cross at the will of, and 
through the obedience He owed to, His Eternal Father, it was 
requisite that He should remain upon it until He was set free 
by the same will and obedience. Thereby He left us an 
example not to be restless and in a hurry under tribulation, but 
to suffer quietly and patiently under it, taking tranquil and 
prudent measures only, and expecting to be freed by the hand 
of God at the time and in the manner determined by Himself. 

It is much to be noted that the kings of the earth, as their 
reign comes to an end with their life, begin even whilst they 
are dying to be despised and forgotten; but our Sovereign 
King, as He conquered His kingdom in dying,, began, as, soon. 


Joseph of Arimathea. 


375 


as His life had ceased to manifest His glory, even before He 
had been taken down from the Cross, in order that thus might 
be accomplished that which had been written of Him, that the 
Lord should reign even from the wood. Inasmuch that while 
He was on the Cross all creatures made a public and solemn 
recognition of Him, and the Eternal Father took upon Himself 
the charge of taking Him down from the Cross, since, through 
obedience to Him, He had not wished to descend from it. 
And thus He stirred up the hearts of the most illustrious 
persons in the city of Jerusalem to take Him down with as 
much honour and reverence as He had been placed there with 
shame and affront. On this followed His burial, not as a 
malefactor who had been executed, but as a just man and 
Redeemer, with all the pomp and preparation which Isaias 
had prophesied, saying , 1 In die ilia radix J'esse, qui slat in 
signum popiilornm, ipsum gentes deprecabimtnr , ct erit sepulchrum 
ejus gloriosum —‘In that day shall be a root of Jesse, Who 
stands as a sign to the people; Him the nations shall suppli¬ 
cate, and His sepulchre shall be glorious!’—the prophet 
marvelling, and with good reason, that a death so ignominious 
should be followed by so glorious a funeral. 

First, amongst the rest who took part in this pious office 
the authors and chiefs were two, one a senator or magistrate of 
Jerusalem, and the other a scribe or teacher in the Temple. 
Both of them were noble, eminent, and rich, as it was natural 
that those should be who were in favour with the Governor, 
and who possessed authority over the people, and had the 
means to supply the pomp and expenses of the funeral. One 
of them was called Joseph , 2 a native of Arimathea , 3 a city of 
Judaea , 4 otherwise called Rama and Ramathaim , 5 the country of 
Samuel, and distant about twenty miles from Jerusalem. Of 
this city Joseph was a native, although he was a near neighbour 
or even inhabitant of Jerusalem, where he was £ a noble Decu- 
rion,’ and had a seat in the council and the government. He 
was, moreover, a man of good life and just, who had secretly 

1 xi. io. 2 St. Matt, xxvii. 57. 3 St. Luke xxiii. 51. 

4 Judges ix. 41. 5 1 Kings i. 1. 





376 


The Sacred Passion. 


resorted to the teaching of our Lord, who had listened to and 
believed in His doctrine , 6 and was hoping for the salvation of 
Israel by means of Him, and that the Kingdom of God—not 
the temporal and earthly, but the spiritual and divine kingdom 
—was about to flourish amongst men. But though this was so, 
he had not yet openly declared himself as a disciple of our 
Lord , 7 because of his being a rich man and of conspicuous 
station, out of the respect and fear he had for the Jews. 

The other , 8 who accompanied and aided Joseph, was 
Nicodemus, a doctor and a principal person among the Jews, 
a Pharisee by profession, and looked up to and respected as a 
Master in Israel. This was he 9 who at the beginning had 
recognized that our Saviour was a teacher come from heaven, 
yet, in order to preserve his authority and not expose himself to 
the hatred of his countrymen, had not dared to come to Jesus 
by day, but came to Him on one occasion by night to acknow¬ 
ledge Him and to communicate to Him his doubts. And he went 
forth from that interview sublimely instructed in celestial things, 
and in the new birth of those who are to enter into the kingdom 
of heaven, which was to be wrought through water and through 
the Holy Ghost. • 

Although these two distinguished men were secret disciples 
of our Lord, they did not on that account abstain from defending 
Him in their councils and public assemblies as well as they 
could , 10 for in a meeting of the Chief Priests and Pharisees, 
when they were all condemning our Saviour and His doctrine, 
and condemning also the common people for following Him in 
their ignorance and fondness for novelty, Nicodemus took up 
His cause and spoke gravely in favour of our Saviour, charac¬ 
terizing the judges as led away by passion in contravening the 
letter of the law, by condemning a man without knowing His 
case or hearing Him. And he did so in such a manner that 
they all turned upon him, throwing it in his face that he 
defended the Galilean as if he himself were one, and as if out 
of Galilee any prophet had ever risen, and, treating him as a 

6 St. Mark xv. 43. 7 St. John xix. 38. 8 Ibid. 39. 

9 Ibid. iii. 2. 10 Ibid. vii. 47. 



Joseph not at the Council\ 


377 


suspected man, they broke up the council and returned to their 
homes. 

Joseph, likewise, although he was also a secret disciple, 
when he saw that the Jews had assembled together against 
our Saviour, would not be led away by them, nor join in their 
council and resolutions, nor consent to their decrees, and he had 
either resisted them openly, speaking in favour of the truth, and 
abhorring their hatred and envy, or else, seeing their obstinacy 
and depraved will, and having no hope of bringing them to a 
better mind, he had thought it better to retire without choosing 
to be present at their deliberations, and in this way to give 
testimony to the truth in the best manner he could. At least, 
it appears that he was not present at the meeting held on the 
Thursday night at the house of the High Priest in order to seek 
out for witnesses against our Lord, for St. Mark says 11 that all 
those who were assembled together condemned Him as worthy 
of death. Still less could he have been present in the praetorium 
of Pilate, nor in the house of Herod with the others who were 
urgent in bringing accusations against our Lord, nor did he go 
out of the city and betake himself to Mount Calvary, to give 
colour by his presence, and favour by his authority, to the 
iniquitous sentence which was there executed. But, on the 
contrary, as one who hated so horrible a crime, he remained 
shut up in his house, giving place to all the diabolical fury of 
the Jews, and expecting some great marvel in a case so new 
and so extraordinary. 

Then, when he saw the signs, no less mysterious than 
wonderful, which followed after the death of our Lord, and the 
public testimony given by all creation to His glory and holiness, 
he received new courage and strength to declare by his works 
the faith which until then he had hidden in his heart, and, 
coming out of his house where he had shut himself up, he 
entered boldly into the house of the Governor to beg him for 
the body of Jesus. O efficacy of the death and blood of Christ! 
When our Lord was preaching, when He was giving sight to 
the blind, curing lepers, casting out devils, restoring the dead 

11 xiv. 64. 




378 


The Sacred Passion . 


to life, and performing His other miracles, to the astonishment 
and wonder of all, and when He was being followed and reve¬ 
renced as a great Prophet, then Joseph and Nicodemus, and 
others (if by chance there were some) of the richest and 
chiefest of the citizens who believed in our Lord, concealed 
their faith, being full of weakness and fear. But now that this 
same Lord Jesus was repudiated by the Synagogue, calumniated 
by the scribes and doctors of the law, accused by the pontiffs 
and priests, looked upon as worse than the public robbers and 
homicides, a man for whom the Cross was demanded by the 
Jews; when He had been scourged and insulted by the Gentiles, 
condemned to death by the Roman Governor, and the sentence 
executed by the ministers and soldiers; when His body was 
hanging between two thieves for a warning to other malefactors; 
V hen the Apostles had taken flight, the disciples all troubled, 
and the flock of the Good Shepherd dispersed; when all things 
were threatening and causing terror and fear on the heart— 
then, O glory of the Crucified ! the Cross remained conqueror, 
giving courage and force to confess and publicly honour Him 
Who had died to those who, out of fear, had not been willing 
to declare themselves His disciples when He was alive ! 

Then, as it was already late , 12 and the festival of the 
Sabbath was drawing nigh—for it began to be kept with the 
setting of the sun—in which it was not lawful to take down the 
body from the Cross, nor be engaged in the office of burial; 
seeing that there was but little time left, and that if that passed 
away the Body would have to remain on the Cross during the 
whole of the following day, Joseph 13 went boldly out of his 
house, and went into Pilate courageously to demand the body 
of our Lord. For the same cause, that is to say, in order that 
the bodies might not remain during the whole of the Sabbath 
day upon the Cross (since that Sabbath day was a high day), 
the Jews had asked of Pilate that he would give leave to have 
them taken down from the Cross, after they had been deprived 
of life by breaking their legs. The legs of the two thieves were 
accordingly broken, and perhaps they were then immediately 
12 St. Matt, xxvii. 57. 13 St. John xix. 38. 



Boldness of Joseph. 


37 9 


taken down from the cross. Our Saviour they found already 
dead, and did not break His bones, and as they could not take 
Him down from the Cross by inflicting this insult upon Him, 
they determined to insult Him by leaving Him upon it. Thus 
our Saviour remained alone upon the Cross as Lord of the 
battlefield, in which He had conquered and triumphed glori¬ 
ously over His enemies, not permitting Himself to be taken 
down from it by the hands of sinners. 

But Joseph, who was a just man, did not wish to avail 
himself of the permission which Pilate had given to the Jews, 
because they had sought to take Him down impiously and 
insultingly, but he wished to do this with honour and piety. 
Therefore he had need of boldness to treat with Pilate 
respecting this matter, since to do so was to declare himself 
to be our Lord’s disciple, at the very time when so many had 
declared themselves to be His enemies, and to lose much of 
his own honour by honouring the burial of a man who had died 
as a criminal. The Body, moreover, was in an infamous 
place, and it had just suffered an ignominious and shameful 
death. The people were filled with rage and thirsting to treat 
the disciples as they had treated the Master. No one could 
show himself in public or give himself out as a friend of our 
Lord without great risk to his life and detriment to his authority. 
Above all, the Body could not be taken down without leave 
from the judge, and the judge was the very man who, through 
fear and weakness, and against reason, justice, and his own 
conscience, had condemned Him. What could well be 
expected, but that he would look upon the honour which 
any one might wish to show to our Lord as an insult to 
himself, because any testimony whatever that was given to 
the innocency of our Saviour was likewise a testimony to his 
own perverse and iniquitous sentence ? 

All these difficulties were conquered by the fervour of faith 
and charity which glowed in the breast of Joseph. And this 
just man, desiring to have a portion in the Cross of Jesus 
Christ, determined to trample on his own honour and authority, 
and sacrifice them to the insults and dishonour inflicted on the 





The Sacred Passion. 


380 


Crucified, making no account of the raging people, nor of the 
feelings which might be aroused in the weak and cowardly 
heart of the Governor by his boldness and courage. He took 
heart , 14 Et audacter introivit ad Pilatum , et petiit corpus 
Jesu. A great request and one of inestimable price and 
value! He begged the body of Jesus, he begged it of 
the Governor, and with as great daring as though he were 
asking for something of his own and which pertained to him 
of right. Et audacter introivit ad Pilatum et petiit corpus 
Jesu —‘And he went in boldly to Pilate and begged the body 
of Jesus.’ 

This is the Body formed in the Virgin’s womb by the opera¬ 
tion of the Holy Ghost, which the Son of God united to His 
own Person, that in it and by it He might work the redemption 
of the world. This is the Body which He offered as an accept¬ 
able sacrifice, shedding all its blood upon the Cross to sanctify 
and adorn His Church, which He had chosen to be His spouse, 
making it for Himself, and at His own cost, beautiful and 
without spot or wrinkle or any such thing. This is that Body 
which for no other purpose than that it might suffer death for 
the Church, was delivered, by the particular providence and 
dispensation of God, for that hour to the powers of darkness, 
and the hour having passed away, and, our Lord having by His 
obedience accomplished all that had been commended to Him 
by His Father, it was now to come forth once more out of the 
power of darkness and return to that of His beloved spouse 
the Church, for whose sake He had delivered Himself into the 
hands of His enemies. The Church, therefore, possessed in 
the Body of Jesus her treasure and her riches, her doctrine and 
her example, her companion and her consolation, the food 
whereby she was to sustain herself unto eternal life ; and all 
this was to be brought about by means of the death which 
He received at the hands of His enemies. For this, Joseph, 
in the name of the whole Church, went boldly to Pilate 
and begged from him the body of Jesus, which had been 
delivered into his power in order to die, wdiich was now 
14 St. Mark xv. 43. 



Pilate marvelling. 


38 i 


dead and had to be restored to the Church that it might 
give life to her. 

Pilate marvelled 15 at what was said when he was told that 
Jesus was already dead. Perhaps his pain of seeing Him put 
to death unjustly still remained, and as he desired that He 
might still be alive, he was unjvilling easily to believe that He 
was dead. His conscience pricked him for the unjust sentence 
which he had given, and he had some consolation remaining as 
long as our Lord’s life lasted, vainly hoping that some remedy 
might be found for the error he had committed in condemning 
Him. He tried and tried in vain, and he could not, do what 
he would, divest himself of the recollection of the calmness and 
dignity of our Saviour, and of all that had passed between him 
and our Lord that day in the prastorium, and it seemed to him 
that either He was the Son of God as had been said of Him, or 
that if He were man He was worthy of living for ever. Who 
can doubt but that the weak and unjust judge must have been 
full of fear when he saw the sun darkened, and the earthquake, 
and the. other signs of which at every moment intelligence was 
brought to his house ? Perhaps, also, he was himself seeking 
new means whereby to take our Saviour down from the Cross, 
or he was wishing that God would deliver through a miracle 
Him Whom he, whose duty it was to set Him free by his own 
authority, had not chosen to deliver. Being occupied by these 
anxieties and cares, he was astonished when he was told that 
Jesus was already dead, principally because the torment of the 
cross was wont ordinarily to be much longer, so as to endure 
not for some hours only, but even on some occasions for several 
days. And our Saviour was a young Man, and in the very 
flower of His age, and it was but a little while before that he 
had been told He was alive, and that the breaking of His legs 
was necessary in order to produce death, and the thieves would 
not have died so promptly if this torture had not been inflicted 
upon them. He had more hope of our Saviour than of them, 
because, on account of the miracles which he had heard that 
He had performed on others, he thought that He must be 
15 St. Mark xv. 44. 





The Sacred Passion. 


382 


possessed of more than human power, and that He would avail 
Himself of this in order to prolong His life beyond the time of 
His natural strength. 

Pilate, therefore, was astonished when he was told that in 
so short a time our Lord had expired without suffering any other 
torment than that of the cross alone. He was a man of luxurious 
life and an unbeliever, and he did not take it into consideration 
that if others held out under this torment for a longer time, 
our Saviour was of much more delicate constitution, and had 
exhausted His strength by fasts and vigils, by journeys and 
pilgrimages, and by continual preaching and long prayers. 
Besides all this, He had passed a terrible night in the dwelling 
of the High Priest, and on that very day He had been scourged 
with exceeding cruelty, His head pierced with great thorns, 
He had been hurried so many times over to and fro from one 
tribunal to another, and lastly, He had borne on His shoulder 
the heavy wood of the Cross through the public streets of the 
city. By all these things, as well as the affliction and agony 
which His loving Heart had suffered whilst among the waves of 
that tempestuous sea of sorrows, He was now T quite exhausted, 
worn out and consumed, so that it was a wonder He could have 
remained three hours alive upon the Cross. Yet He remained 
alive during all the time which was necessary for concluding 
the enterprise He had taken on Himself, and for fulfilling the 
Scriptures. Then, all being finished and accomplished, as one 
who had no desire to live more, He bowed His head and 
commended His Spirit into the hands of His Father. 

And God ruled in His secret providence that the Governor 
should doubt and be astonished, and should take information, 
for so it was meet, for the greater glory of the Resurrection and 
for the greater consolation of the faithful, that the death of our 
Redeemer should be certain, and that a juridical verification 
thereof should be made . 16 Therefore Pilate sent for the Centu¬ 
rion, and as he was an officer of his, and placed by him at the 
head of the soldiers who were keeping watch over the body of 
our Lord, it was most proper to believe him and receive his 
16 St. Mark xv. 44. 



Witness of the Centurion. 


383 


testimony. The Centurion was perhaps on Calvary, keeping 
guard over the deceased body of our Lord, and as he was to 
be witness of His death, God had shed upon him the rays of 
His light and the benediction of His sweetness, so that, seeing 
our Saviour expire with so loud a voice and cry, he believed 
and confessed and glorified God, saying—‘ Indeed this Man 
was the Son of God.’ When Pilate therefore summoned him 
and inquired of him whether it was true that our Lord was 
dead, what answer can we think that he would make ? His 
information, no doubt, was such that the former wonder of the 
Governor at the fact of His death was not so great as that 
which he now felt at the circumstances by which it was accom¬ 
panied. Accordingly, he gave Joseph the body, to honour it 
and bury it as his devotion prompted. And as another Evan¬ 
gelist says , 17 Jussit reddi corpus —he commanded that the 
body should be restored as a possession which of right 
belonged to him and to all the other faithful disciples who 
were members of that Body which, for a certain space of time, 
and that only for certain results that had now been accom¬ 
plished^ had been delivered into the hands of the Gentiles. 

Joseph came forth well contented with the success of his 
boldness, and armed with the authority and decree of the 
Governor, and still more with the divine favour and assistance, 
immediately set about preparing all things necessary to the 
•interment, not secretly but in public, and in the eyes of the 
whole city . 18 Nicodemus likewise came without waiting for 
the silence and darkness of the night, as he had done at the 
beginning, when he was weak in faith, and they both united 
together to take down the body from the Cross and bury it 
honourably, without sparing any cost or risk, or making any 
account of their own honour and authority, or taking any heed 
either of the hatred and murmurings of the common people or 
the opinion and judgment of the graver sort, and what is still 
more, without paying any respect to the law itself. 

For the law 19 severely prohibited any one from touching 
the bodies of the dead, and if any man touched the body of a 

17 St. Matt, xxvii. 58. 18 St. John xix. 39. 19 Numb. xix. 16. 




384 


The Sacred Passion. 


man that had died either naturally or by violence, or even any 
dead bone, or the grave itself, he was regarded as unclean until 
with certain ceremonies he had been cleaned and purified. The 
lawgiver intended by this to turn away the people, which was 
weak and badly inclined to the idolatrous superstition of the 
Gentiles, from the unlawful dealings and necromancy which 
they practised by means of the dead, and also to inspire them 
with horror against sins, which are the dead works which defile 
the spirits of those who do them. This law then, being so, gave a 
very apparent pretext by which these two men, who held such 
a high position and were so much esteemed, might, under 
colour of religion and piety, have withdrawn from so odious 
and dangerous an undertaking. But their faith overcame this 
difficulty likewise, teaching them that that dead body would 
not make them unclean, but would purify those who were 
unclean, and that the Pasch was not contaminated by this 
dead Man, but on the contrary, that it was renewed, since by 
means of His death our Lord became the principle and origin 
of all purity and holiness, and the Author of the resurrection, 
of life and of immortality. 

For this reason, then, these noble men not only took 
courage to bury Him, but also to honour Him in all possible 
ways. Joseph 20 gave Him the sepulchre which he had pre¬ 
pared for himself, regarding himself as highly blessed in that 
he was permitted to deposit the treasure of life in the dwelling 
that he had prepared for himself after death, and being filled 
with a sure hope of resurrection, since in his sepulchre was laid 
the source of life. In like manner, confessing Him to be the 
New Man, the Giver of the New Law and of the New Testament, 
and the Restorer of the world, he buried Him in a new grave, 
and wrapped the body in linen cloths, not only clean, but new , 21 
which he bought for this purpose, deeming it not to be meet 
that the dead body of our Saviour should be wrapt in anything 
which had touched the body of any living man. So great is 
the reverence and purity with which he taught us to treat and 
receive the body of our Lord, and the care and pain with which 
20 St. Matt, xxvii. 60. 21 St. Mark xv. 46. 



The Myrrh and Aloes. 


385 


we ought to prepare ourselves for it. At the same time, 
Nicodemus made ready aromatic ointments, not grudgingly, 
but in abundance and quantity, since when he came to join 
Joseph , 22 he brought with him a mixture of myrrh and aloes, in 
quantity about one hundred pounds weight. He thought not 
to embalm our Saviour to preserve Him from corruption, for he 
well knew that within that self same body was the principle of 
incorruption. Therefore he did not open It, nor take out the 
interior of His body, as is done with other dead bodies, but he 
left Him whole as He was and ready for resurrection, which 
was to be immediately, before the body had time to become 
decomposed. He anointed Him indeed, and washed Him, 
and made Him, as it were, swim in those aromatic spices, 
honouring Him with all that lavishness, declaring the greatness 
of His devotion and His love, and giving testimony that in that 
same Body was contained the treasure of our incorruption in 
much greater abundance than was represented by that hundred 
pound weight of myrrh and aloes. 

22 St. John xix. 39. 


z 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 


The Body of our Saviour is taken down from the Cross , 
and laid in the Sepidchre. 

Joseph and Nicodemus then left the city with these preparations 
and with all the instruments and attendants necessary for taking 
the body of our Lord down from the Cross. The Blessed 
Virgin our Lady and the Mother of our Lord, with great 
courage and marvellous fortitude, was there keeping company 
with the dead body of her Son, and doing reverence to the 
mystery of the Cross with the most profound humility and 
sublime conformity to the will of God. She was not anxious 
or troubled about the burial, because she knew that it was in 
the charge of God, so she awaited with quiet and tranquil heart 
whatever He would dispose concerning it, attending only to 
what belonged to herself to do, which was not to forsake her 
post, but to discharge with equanimity and perseverance the 
part assigned to her in the Cross, that is to say, in the sufferings 
and dishonour of her Son. The maternal heart of the Blessed 
Virgin felt tenderly the cruel death of her.beloved Son, her soul 
was pierced by the spectacle which she had before her eyes, 
and the flood of her heart’s grief caused abundant streams of 
tears to flow calmly and gently down her divine face. 

O sovereign Virgin! no less favoured and aided by God 
than afflicted and pierced with grief, on whom alone amongst 
all His pure creatures God shed the full treasures of His grace, 
and in whom He that is mighty wrought great things, since the 
Holy Spirit, Who was her teacher and dwelt -within her, lost no 
opportunity of instructing her, and, by means of that Book 
which she had before her open upon the Cross, communicated 


Our Lady on Calvary. 


387 


to hef every moment new truths and new illuminations, 
enkindled in her will fresh fires of fervour, and manifested 
to her, as far as is possible in this life, the treasures of the 
wisdom of God which were hidden in her Son. Divine 
Sanctuary of the most Holy Trinity, in whose breast were 
formed the most delicate first fruits of grace, in whose praises 
those who know least are most daring and those who have 
acquired some knowledge find themselves poor and dumb ! 
So great was thy increase of knowledge and love by the oppor¬ 
tunities of this day, that the Cherubim are ignorant, and the 
Seraphim lukewarm, by thy side. And, although the Angels of 
peace wept bitterly over this day, yet the obsequies of the Son 
of God would have been defective, and have failed in solemnity, 
if they had not been honoured and accompanied by the devout 
tears of His Mother, who knew Him and loved Him better 
than all. O wonderful mystery of Divine Providence, which 
thus delighted itself in the griefs of the Virgin and rejoiced in 
her tears ! For, if a fragrant tree is all the more prized when 
its leaves and flowers have greatest virtue, so that perfumes of 
greater fragrance and sweetness are distilled from it, of how 
much price in the eyes of God were those tears which flowed 
from so much reverence and so much love and grief, so much 
knowledge and so sublime and wondering contemplations, such 
humble thankfulness, and so much conformity and fervent self 
sacrifice! 

The Blessed Virgin was occupied in this contemplation, 
accompanied by the Evangelist and the other holy women, and 
was honouring the death of her Son with her tears and still 
more with the affection of her heart, when there arrived at 
Calvary those two noble men, Joseph and Nicodemus, with the 
others who accompanied them. The other holy women came 
near and gathered round the Blessed Virgin, who, as the Mother 
of the Dead, represented the widowhood and orphanhood of 
the whole Church, and the Evangelist, who now performed 
the office of a good son, advanced to meet them. No words 
were heard but only tears, no greetings exchanged but only 
sobs, and especially when they drew nigh to that afflicted 
z 2 



388 


The Sacred Passion. 


Mother, who had before her eyes the Son of her womb dead 
and nailed to a Cross. Sorrowful spectacle, and one which 
would have broken the hardest and rudest heart! 

Joseph and Nicodemus did reverence and honour to our 
Lady. She wept and they wept also, nor was it possible at 
first to speak another word. At last they said, ‘Ah, Lady, this- 
torment is over, thy Son is at rest, and has obtained the victory 
from the very hands of His furious enemies. O Lady, thou 
hast much wherewith to console thyself amidst so many causes 
of grief. The innocence of thy Son is very well known. All 
have seen the outrage which has been done Him and the 
violence with which His cause has been treated, the envy of 
the accusers and the weakness of the Governor have been 
published and manifested. On the other hand, the constancy, 
modesty, the silence and dignity of thy Son were such, O Lady, 
as to cause the astonishment, admiration, and reverence of the 
very judge who condemned Him. O miserable nation and 
city in which such an enormity has been committed ! who have 
subjected themselves to the penalty of so terrible a crime, and 
to the infamy of so abominable an iniquity! God forbid that 
we, Lady, should have taken part in so diabolical a counsel. 
We remained shut up in our houses, that we might not see or 
hear or understand things which we could not remedy. Yet 
what excuse can we find for having shut ourselves up ?—rather 
we must confess our weakness and cowardice in having con¬ 
cealed ourselves when we saw our Master condemned, instead 
of coming forth at the risk of our lives to defend His innocence 
and truth. But the determined will of God was that this 
Innocent should die for the common good of all, and as for the 
mad and furious people, how would it have been possible to 
bring them right and restrain them? Now we come, O Lady, 
and we present ourselves before thee here, too late indeed to 
defend and aid the living, and still in time to do honour to and 
bury the dead. We have already a permission from the judge, 
do thou also, Lady, as a Mother, give us leave, and receive in 
the name of thy Son and our Master this our ready will and 
devout sendee. ’ 



The Descent from the Cross. 


389 


It is impossible but that the most meek and humble Virgin 
should have felt herself greatly indebted to these men, and that 
she thanked them with much courtesy for their coming and 
purpose. She would tell them the goodwill her Son had to 
them, and the obligations under which they both were to them, 
and the joy she felt that God had chosen and given them 
courage for such a work, which would receive a great reward 
both in this world and the next. And then, taking their leave 
of her because the evening was already far advanced, they set 
themselves to work to take the holy Body down from the Cross, 
that it might be buried. The Mother was filled with new T 
emotion, expecting to gaze on her Son very close and to receive 
Him from the arms of the Cross into her own. They next 
fixed the ladders, and, not trusting this office to servants, they 
themselves ascended them, and placing themselves in a con¬ 
venient position, they made use of hammers and pincers to 
draw out the nails which were driven firmly into the Cross, and 
as soon as the hands were loosened, the arms and the whole 
weight of the Body fell upon them as they were removing the 
nails. Blessed men! who were found worthy to receive the 
first embraces of the crucified and dead body of our Lord, to 
adorn and beautify themselves and to stain their vestments 
with the precious Blood which had flowed from His wounds. 
With how great consolation and devotion of soul one of them 
remained holding the sacred Body in his embrace, whilst the 
other descended to take the nails out of the Feet! When this 
was done, then by little and little and with the utmost reverence 
they lowered the sacred Body, those who stood by aiding them 
as they could, until after so terrible a tempest it touched once 
more the earth. 

The Blessed Virgin was there waiting to receive Him into 
her arms, nor could there be any more fitting or solemn 
receptacle than these. When kings return as conquerors from 
battles, and especially if they have fought valiantly for their 
own persons and the liberation of their kingdom from some 
.grievous yoke and servitude, they are received by their vassals 
with great demonstrations of honour, and public rejoicings, 



390 


The Sacred Passion, 


with dances, acclamations, triumphal arches, and all the other 
inventions with which men have contrived to acknowledge 
publicly and make honourable and magnificent the triumph of 
their kings, and thus to employ in their service the goods, the 
honour, and the liberty which they confess that they have 
received from them. Our King returned from fighting with the 
world and the devil, with sin and with death. He had fought 
valiantly in His own Person, and received many wounds in His 
body, and had given up His life in the quarrel; He had come 
forth as a conqueror, and had left all His enemies and ours 
routed and broken. The fruit of this victory was that we were 
set free from the power of darkness, and had passed into the 
kingdom of light and the hope of eternal life. O Catholic 
Church !—Kingdom chosen by the Son of God, people con¬ 
quered by His blood!—with what honour, with what pomp 
and display, with what solemnity and triumph, with what accla¬ 
mations, with what songs and praises, with what triumphal 
arches, with what splendid decorations, with what gifts of price 
didst thou receive thy King when He descended from the 
Cross ? Of a truth thou didst find nothing else wherewith to 
receive Him but the arms of His Mother! O souls desirous to 
honour Jesus Christ and to celebrate His triumphs, acknow¬ 
ledge this grace that God has done to you by laying up all His 
treasures in this Virgin, that in her and through her you might 
honour your King and Redeemer ! O precious pearl of the 
Church and honour of the human race ! Supply, O Lady, our 
poverty, and open thine arms, and thy bosom, and thy heart* 
and receive Him within them, after having redeemed us, Him 
Who when He came to redeem us thou didst worthily receive 
into thy most pure and holy womb ! 

Who shall say that the Blessed Virgin was ashamed of 
her Son because He had died with so much infamy on 
the Cross, when the Apostle found nothing else in which 
He could glory save in this self same Cross ? The Blessed 
Virgin, moreover, had all the more reason to glory therein* 
seeing that she had received through it even more graces- 
and favours than the Apostle. Thou, O Lady, knewest then 



Our Lord in His Mother s arms. 391 


the mystery of the Cross better than the Apostle, even 
after the Gospel had been preached and received. Thou, 
in thy great humility, knewest better how to esteem and 
be thankful for the graces of God than any other creature, 
thou knewest well that all these' graces had been gained for 
thee by thy Son upon the Cross. When thou didst see Him 
descend from it, wounded and pierced, disfigured and become 
as it were a leper and dead for thee, what didst thou feel, what 
words didst thou utter, with what love and longing desire didst 
thou receive Him? ‘Give to me,’ thou didst say, ‘give to me 
my Lord! ’ 

When thy most precious Son, O Lady, spoke to thee from 
the Cross, not quite to kill thee or Himself with emotion, He 
did not call thee Mother, but He said, ‘Woman, behold thy 
Son.’ Tell us now, O Blessed Virgin, by your precious love, if 
now that He was dead, and that thou wast alone to feel that 
grief and tenderness, if thou didst call Him Son ? When He 
was of the age of twelve years, and thou didst lose Him for 
three days and seek Him with such anxiety, thy motherly heart 
could not contain itself when thou foundest Him in the 
Temple, nor refrain from calling Him Son, saying , 1 ‘ My Son, 
why hast Thou done so?’ Now that He is lowered into thy 
arms, dead of a death of torments, how was it possible for thee 
to restrain thy love and hinder thyself from exclaiming, ‘ My 
Son, how is it that Thou comest to me thus ? O sirs, give me 
my Son and my Redeemer! ’ 

The Blessed Virgin repressed with gravity and modesty the 
sobs which rose from her heart, whilst tears flowed abundantly 
from her eyes. She seated herself at the foot of the Cross, 
she received into her lap the dead body of her Son, and 
sustaining Him in her arms, let His head recline upon her 
virginal breast. Alternately casting her eyes upon Him and 
then raising them to heaven, she became deeply absorbed in 
devout meditation on the Passion of our Lord, in compassion, 
in profound and calm contemplation, and the most sublime 
affections, both of love and grief, which as long as time lasts will 
1 St. Luke ii. 48. 



392 


The Sacred Passion. 


be felt concerning this mystery by the faithful and most highly 
favoured amongst the sons of God. 

‘My Son,’ she would say, ‘who is it that has done thus 
unto Thee ? I do not complain, Lord, of those who have taken 
Thy life, since Thou didst offer it of Thy own will for them 
through obedience to Thy Eternal Father. O Eternal Father! 
blessed be Thy providence, and blessed be Thy bounty and 
Thy love, Who, in order to give life to slaves, hast delivered to 
death Thy very Son Himself! My Son, these were Thy longings; 
Thy desires are now fulfilled. These wounds, these sufferings, 
these nails, and this lance which I now see on Thy body—all 
these are what Thou hast borne throughout all Thy life in Thy 
Heart. How couldst Thou live, seeing Thou hadst to bear 
therein so heavy a cross ? 

‘ Thou hast died, Lord, at the hands of Thy enemies, not as 
a weak and cowardly man, but as the valiant and courageous 
die, and as the Son of Him Whose Son Thou art. O Son of 
the Eternal Father! this was the obedience, this the zeal for 
the honour of God, this the love for our neighbour, the contempt 
of all earthly things, the constancy in preaching the truth, and 
fortitude in coming forth in its defence, which He Who was the 
true Son of God had to teach in the world. O Eternal God, 
great in justice and great in mercy! what justice is this 
which Thou hast executed on Thy beloved Son ? iVnd what 
mercy is this which Thou hast shown to vile and ungrateful 
slaves ? 

‘ My Son, dost Thou not speak to me ? If Thou didst 
undergo pain and agony when Thou didst enter upon Thy 
Passion, is it much that I should feel such now that Thou 
comest forth from it? and if Thou wert so conformed to the will 
of Thy Father then, I also am conformed to Thine, it is 
sufficient that Thou shouldst have willed it, in order that I 
should will it also, and enough that Thou shouldst have felt it, 
in order that I should also feel it. O Eternal Father, Who art 
well pleased and satisfied with the sacrifice of His body which 
this innocent Lamb has offered Thee! receive likewise that 
which His afflicted Mother offers Thee in her heart, and from 



The Garden of the Sepulchre. 


393 


this very day, grant abundant mercy to sinners, since it is for 
their sakes that Thou hast executed so rigorous justice upon 
Thy Son.’ 

Thus the Blessed Virgin, with a heart pierced with sharpest 
grief, was rapt in sublimest contemplation, and her Son, Who, 
but a little season before, being alive, had offered Himself up 
with burning charity on the arms of a dead Cross, now, being 
dead, was laid within the arms of His living Mother. She felt 
all His sufferings, and offered them also, as far as was her part 
to do so, for the honour of God and the salvation of men, with 
all the force of the charity communicated to her by the Holy 
Spirit. So well pleasing to God was that love with which, in the 
midst of so many griefs, the Blessed Virgin strained herself to 
desire the redemption and salvation of the human race, that, 
as her Son was made a Mediator and the Redeemer of all 
mankind, so she also became a mediator and advocate for the 
same. 

But now, as it was already evening, those noble and pious 
men entreated the Blessed Virgin to permit them to bury the 
body of our Lord . 2 Near to the place where our Lord had 
been crucified there was a garden, close to Calvary, where 
sentence was executed upon malefactors — a garden which 
Divine Providence had willed should be planted there, and 
kept so that it might minister to the mystery of our redemption. 
Because, as our Lord, bearing in mind the tree by which Adam 
had sinned through disobedience, Himself stretched out His 
hands on to the tree of the Cross, so also, as Adam had sinned 
in a garden, He referred to that in beginning His Passion by 
praying in a garden, and then closing it in. another garden as 
the place of His burial. It was, moreover, meet that it should 
be a garden where the precious blossom of Jesus should be 
planted, and the seed of glory and immortality should be 
buried. 

Now, so it was 3 that in this garden there was a new 
sepulchre, in which no man had yet been buried. It was in 
form like a cell or vaulted chamber, hollowed out of the living 
2 St.John xix. 41. 3 Ibid. 




394 


The Sawed Passion. 


rock, and of such a height that a man standing upright would 
hardly with his arm stretched out touch the roof. Towards the 
east there was a door, so small that it was necessary to stoop 
low in order to enter by it. On the north side was the place 
of sepulture, hewn out in the rock, seven feet in length, and 
raised about three palms above the ground. Of the stone it is 
said that it was white with a mixture of colour. It appears 
that this sepulchre was the property of Joseph of Arimathea, 
and that he himself had hewn it out with great care and art , 4 
for the Evangelist says of him that he laid our Saviour in his 
own new tomb, which he had hewed out of a rock. 

From all this we see on the one hand the deep poverty of 
our Saviour, Who was naked when He died, and not only had 
no sepulchre, but no shroud in which to wrap His body. And 
on the other hand we see the providence of God, Who aroused 
the devotion of these two rich and leading men to perform this 
office with all the ceremonies and honours which occurred to 
them. First, placing the body upon a stone (which is the first 
thing to be visited at the entrance of the Church of the Holy 
Sepulchre, and is called Lapis unctionis ), and laying it upon the 
linen, they anointed it with no small quantity of aromatic spices, 
and wrapt it in new white linen cloths, which Joseph had bought 
for the purpose. They did with Him 5 all that was customary 
among the Jews to do to persons of high rank when they were 
buried. They did nothing less, because it seemed to them that 
our Lord, because He had died on the Cross, had not lost 
thereby any of His dignity, so that less should be done for Him 
than was usual, nor did they, on the other hand, seek to do 
more, for the sake of their own modesty and that also of our 
Lord Himself, Who was lying dead, nor would they indulge in 
the funeral pomp which would have been agreeable to their 
faith and devotion, but rather chose to limit themselves and 
conform in all things to what was customary. 

After this they bore His holy Body to the sepulchre, accom 
panied by some pious men and some disciples who had collected 
together, by the pious women who were with the Virgin, and 
4 St. Matt, xxvii. 60. 5 St.John xix. 40. 










Burying our Lord. 


395 


much more, by all the Angels and blessed spirits who had come 
there to do him honour, assisting at His burial. Joseph and 
Nicodemus placed the body in the sepulchre hewn out of the 
rock, excusing themselves modestly for placing Him there , 6 
because the sepulchre was near at hand, and there was no time 
on account of the Sabbath, to seek another more sumptuous 
sepulchre, or to convoke a larger assemblage of people, or 
prepare a greater procession and display through the streets of 
the city. 

But in truth, no preparation of funeral pomp was more meet 
than this for the interment of our Lord—that is to say, that His 
Body should be wrapped in clean and new linen, signifying the 
purity and spotlessness of the souls who are to receive it, and 
that it should be placed in a sepulchre hewn out of a rock, in 
which no man had hitherto been buried. For as when He 
made entrance into this life, He was bom of a Virgin Mother, 
so when He left it, He returned to a virgin sepulchre, out of 
which, as of His Virgin Mother, He was to be born a second 
time to the life of immortality and glory. 

There were present there 7 Mary Magdalene 8 and the other 
Mary, the mother of Joseph , 9 and the other women who had 
come with Him from Galilee, and who, seating themselves over 
against the sepulchre, wept and lamented the death of our 
Lord, and at the same time saw and noted 10 the place where 
He was laid, and the manner and guise in which the Body was 
disposed in the sepulchre. For they intended to return after 
the festival was past to seek some alleviation to their grief and 
their love, at least by seeing Him, adoring Him, and renewing 
the ointments. 

Of the Blessed Virgin our Lady it is not said that she was 
present at the burial, and perhaps they would not allow her to 
assist at it, that her tears and grief might not be increased. 
She therefore remained on Calvary, with a proper company. 
And in order to teach the whole Church the adoration and 
reverence due to the holy Cross, she was the first moved by 

6 St.John xix. 42. 7 St. Matt, xxvii. 61. 8 St. Mark xv. 47. 

9 St. Luke xxiii. 55. 10 St. Mark xv. 47. 



396 


The Sacred Passion. 


the Holy Spirit to remain in adoration before the sacred tree 
of the Cross, which, until then, had been so abominable and 
infamous. Her companions also remained, in order that they 
might accompany her before night back to the city. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

Our Saviour descends into Hell to set free the soids of the 
holy Fathers. 

The gates of heaven had been closed until our Saviour died. 
He was the first, as has been said, Who by means of His blood 
rent the veil in twain and opened a way of entrance into the 
Holy of Holies of glory . 1 The blood of Jesus Christ, says 
St. Jerome, is the key of Paradise, for that land of the living, 
which the first Adam had lost, the second Adam regained, and 
returned and restored it to us after the other had lost it In 
the Gospel He promises us the kingdom of heaven, which 
although named in the old time was not yet to be found. This 
St. Jerome says. But since, as up to that time, there was no 
kingdom of heaven, all the souls of those who died were 
detained in a prison in the lowest parts of the earth. And as 
their merits and their states were different, so also were the 
places in which they were shut up. Some souls went forth out 
of this life with mortal sins, and went to the place which we 
properly call hell. Others had venial sins, or had some tem¬ 
poral penalty to pay for mortal sins already pardoned, which 
they had committed in this life, and they went into Purgatory. 
Others had no other sin than original sin, such as children who 
died without redemption, and these went to the Limbus of 
children. Others there were who departed this life in a state 
1 Hier. ad Dardan, Epist. 129. 




Four abodes of Souls. 


397 


of grace, without having to pay any penalty at all, but they 
could not enter heaven until our Saviour had paid the common 
debt of all mankind. These went to another place or receptacle 
in hell, which the Evangelist calls 2 the bosom of Abraham, 
because in it was this great Patriarch, and all those who by 
imitation of his faith and his justice were the true sons of God. 

Thus it was, that as it was not possible to see God before 
the death of our Redeemer, all souls of necessity up to that 
time had to endure some pain. The penalty was of two kinds : 
one, that which w'e call the pain of loss, which consist only in 
being without the sight of God, the other was the pain of sense, 
such as is the torment which is inflicted by fire. Each of these 
penalties might be temporal or eternal. And, as hence resulted 
four kinds of pain, there were four receptacles or places set 
apart for them. For some suffered the pains both of loss and of 
sense together, and if this was to be for ever they were in hell, 
if it was to be temporary they only went to Purgatory. Others 
there were who were only to suffer the pain of loss : when this is 
to be eternal they go to the Limbus of children, and when it is 
for a certain fixed time, to the Limbus which is called that of 
the Fathers, or the bosom of Abraham. 

How these places were arranged is not clearly known, nor 
how or in what manner they were divided and separated from 
one another. But it seems certain that the place of the con¬ 
demned was in the lowest part of the earth, and that the 
Limbus of the holy Fathers was much above it. For the 
Gospel says , 3 that when the rich man died, he was buried in 
hell, and that lifting up his eyes when he was in torments he 
saw Abraham afar off and Lazarus in his bosom; and that 
when he begged Abraham to send Lazarus that he might bring 
him some refreshment, it was answered him that that was not 
possible, among other reasons because of the great space there 
was between one place and the other, which was so pathless 
and impassible that it was impossible to go from one to the 
other. This, when our Saviour died, was the state of the 
receptacles of hell. 

2 St. Luke xvi. 22. 3 Ibid. 



39 § 


The Sacred Passion. 


Immediately, then, that He expired on the Cross, His most 
holy Soul, united with His Divinity and accompanied by in¬ 
numerable Angels, descended in Person to the deepest abysses 
of hell, where so great a number of souls were shut up. It was 
very meet that of Himself He should perform that journey, that 
He might break open that prison, set at liberty the prisoners, 
glorify by His presence those just men, and collect together 
after His victory those rich spoils. And thus He declares to us, 
by another new argument, His own humility and most excellent 
charity, since no place was so abject or infamous but His love 
-of souls and desire for their redemption took Him thereto. 

And since those souls were so many in number and so 
excellent in merit, seeing that they were those of kings, 
patriarchs, and prophets who had believed in Him, had 
desired Him, prefigured and preached Him, and who during 
the course of so many ages one after the other had kept up in 
the world faith and hope of this redemption promised by God ; 
seeing that they had been such familiar friends of God, enjoying 
His graces and the blessings of communion with Him, and that 
among these were His fathers and progenitors after the flesh, 
and finally that all the fruits which His Passion had produced 
in the preceding centuries were there collected together, it was 
very meet that He should Himself visit and console them, and 
that He Who had been their Redeemer and the purchaser of 
their freedom should Himself be the one to bring them the first 
glad tidings thereof. This was, moreover, meet in order that 
His victory might be more renowned and His triumph more 
glorious, that having conquered the kingdom of hell upon the 
Cross, He should descend thither as into His own realms, 
entering there, not as prisoner, but as King and Liberator, 
filling those dungeons with the splendour and glory of His 
Majesty, and giving perfect liberty to all those who, having 
lived in His faith and died in His grace, were prepared to 
enter, by virtue of His Blood, into the blessedness of His glory. 

The Soul of Christ our Lord then descended only into that 
of the four places or abodes of hell which we have called the 
bosom of Abraham, where were the souls of the holy Fathers. 



Our Lord's Presence in Hell. 


399 


For there was good cause that He should descend there, where 
He had so many friends, and where He had so many rewards 
to bestow, and whence He was to come forth with such rich 
spoils. But not for this did He omit to visit in a certain 
manner the other places of hell, manifesting in them His power 
by some new and particular effects, so that in general all knew 
Him, and the redemption which He had purchased on the 
Cross was revealed to them, and the dignity to which God had 
raised Him above all other creatures. This new knowledge 
wrought different results, according to the various dispositions 
of the souls who were there. 

For doubtless those who were in Purgatory felt some alle¬ 
viation in their pains, and a great consolation and delight at 
seeing their redemption now accomplished and the gate of 
heaven opened, knowing for certain that after they had finished 
the purification of their sins they would not be detained (as had 
formerly been the case) in the dungeons of Limbus, but that 
they would immediately enter into possession of glory. Besides 
this, some of them were entirely liberated from their sufferings 
in honour and reverence of that day. And that the rejoicing 
might be greater still, and the company which was to attend 
our Saviour more complete, those were set free who, according 
to the divine ordinance, had on that day fulfilled the term of 
their banishment and penitence, or who, through the particular 
faith and devotion which during life they had had towards the 
Redeemer, or for their special hope in His death and Passion, 
merited that, through the merit of that same Passion, a plenary 
indulgence and remission from their pains should that day be 
given them. The souls of the condemned and the evil spirits 
were reproved by our Saviour for their incredulity or obstinacy 
and pertinacity, and for their pride and hardness of heart felt 
fresh suffering and increase of rage and fury. 

And both these, as well as the children in Limbus and the 
souls in Purgatory, and those of the holy Fathers—some of 
their own will, inspired by faith and love, others with natural 
respect and reverence, as the children in Limbus, and others 
perforce and against their will—all bent their knees and did 



400 


The Sacred Passion . 


homage and reverence to our Lord, as says the Apostle : In 
nomine Jesu , omne genu fledatur coelestium , terrestrium , et infer- 
norum —‘That at the name of Jesus every knee be bowed, of 
those in heaven and in earth and under the earth.’ 


CHAPTER L. 

The Jews put a guard at the Sepulchre. 

Notwithstanding all this, our Lord permitted it to be that, 
although the powers of hell had been conquered, the Chief 
Priests and the Synagogue of the blind and unbelieving Jews 
should persevere in their hardness and obstinacy. Not content 
with having seen Him Whom they had hated without a cause 
dying on a tree, they devised new means and exerted all their 
power to obscure His glory and blot out His name from the 
memory of men. He was now dead, and they still feared Him 
as though He had been alive. The disciples were hidden 
through fear of the priests and the scribes, and the scribes and 
priests in their turn were all in trouble for fear of them. Their 
evil consciences tormented them, and pictured to them what 
was about to take place, namely, that those few weak and timid 
disciples would preach and persuade the people that that dead 
Man had risen again, and was King of the Jews and of all the 
world j and that if many had believed in Him whilst He was 
alive, many more still would believe in Him now He was dead. 
Furious at this issue which they thus pictured to themselves, 
they obstinately repeated what had been said of them, and in 
their name : 1 Nolumus hunc regnare super nos —‘We will not 
have this Man to reign over us.’ 

1 St. Luke xix. 14. 




The Priests and Pilate. 


401 


Having come to an agreement upon this matter , 2 on the 
next day after Friday, which would be the Sabbath, early in the 
morning, the Chief Priests and the Pharisees betook them¬ 
selves by common consent to Pilate, that they might make to 
him their petition. They did not take into account that it was 
the Sabbath, and also the Pasch, on which account that Sabbath 
was a high festival, and that it was not permitted them, either 
by their law, or by their customs and traditions, to appear 
before the judge, to beg of him a guard, to take the soldiers to 
the sepulchre, to seal the stone, and perform all else which 
they required. Their anxiety alone spurred them on, and the 
business, which did not admit of delay. These men, who had 
pretended to be such zealots for keeping of the Sabbath, that it 
seemed to them that even mercy could not dispense with its 
observance to heal or take care of a sick person, were now 
ready to break the Sabbath, moved by their envy, to do evil to 
and to calumniate a just man. Those who the day before had 
scrupled to enter the prsetorium on the day of the' Pasch, these 
same, on the very Sabbath of the Pasch itself, not only went 
into Pilate’s house, but went with cajoling and flattering words, 
the better to succeed in their business, calling him lord, whom 
for having desired to appear so and to exercise authority in 
the name of the Romans, they abhorred and looked upon as 
a tyrant. 

‘ My lord ’— Domine 3 —they would say, ‘ the tricks of this 
man were such that they fill us vidth anxiety now He is dead, and 
we, therefore, think it necessary that soldiers should be sent to 
guard His sepulchre. It would have been well to take this 
precaution from the moment when His body was placed there, 
but who can be alive to everything ? Now, on considering the 
matter, we are all agreed as to a point which through forgetful¬ 
ness we did not attend to, which is that that Deceiver was 
accustomed to say when He was alive that He would die on 
the Cross, and then rise again the third day as if He had been 
dead. In this way He kept the people deceived, for He told 
them that He was to suffer that kind of death which He 

2 St. Matt, xxvii. 62. 3 Ibid. 63. 

AA 



402 


The Sacred Passion. 


merited and feared for His crimes, making them thereby 
believe that He was a prophet, and now by a diabolical artifice 
He has put them in suspense with the vain hope that He is to 
rise again with glory. As regards the first, He was indeed a 
prophet, and He could not help being a true prophet. His 
life was such that He could not expect any other kind of 
death. The falsehood of His second assertion will soon be 
proved, for three days is no long space of time. On this, my 
lord, we require and beg of thee that thou wouldst interpose 
thy authority and decree, and order a guard to be set at the 
sepulchre until this third day be passed, for His disciples 
perchance may come, and in order to cause this lie to appear 
truth, they will steal and make away with His body, where it 
may be neither seen nor found. And even if they do not dare 
to appear before us, nor to come to men of education and 
prudence with such stories as these, the evil is that they will 
persuade the people of these fables, and will make them 
believe that He has risen from the dead. 

‘ And although the people is the people, and the multitude 
are ignorant and lovers of novelty, they do not on this account 
fail to expose us to risk by their novelties and uproars, because 
the numbers who followed this man when He was alive were 
so great that we had reason to fear that, if the evil were not 
prevented, our commonwealth might be ruined. For as the 
multitude He drew after Him was so great, and as He said as 
He did that He was King of the Jews, and as He taught as 
He did new doctrines and opinions, what could be expected 
but that the people would divide itself into different bands and 
.sects, and that they would die by one another’s hands, and also 
by the hands of the Romans, who might justly have come 
down upon us, imagining that the whole of the nation was rising 
against them? So great is the power of one deceiver and 
seditious person. If we saw this when He was still alive, 
what will happen if the people persuade itself that after death 
He has risen again? The mischief without doubt would be 
greater and the error more irreparable. Therefore, my lord, 
it is well that these dangers should be prevented, and that a 



Pilate granting the Gitard. 


403 


sufficient guard should be in good time set at the sepulchre, 
that by a little diligence serious inconveniences may be 
prevented.’ 

Pilate listened to all this discourse, and saw how envy and 
hatred still smouldered in the breasts of these men. He had 
thought that it would have been enough to have scourged our 
Lord, and was greatly surprised to find that His being dead 
and buried was not enough to satisfy them, and free them from 
the fear they had of His making Himself their King. But he 
was not willing to be wanting in any obligation of his office, or 
to thwart, on the other hand, people so restless and turbulent, 
and so he despatched their petition with great sagacity and 
prudence. For he did not refuse them the guard, not to give 
them occasion to lay the blame on him for anything which 
might afterwards happen, nor did he choose to appoint the 
soldiers himself and by his own order, lest any suspicion should 
attach to him, and that there might not be any ground for saying 
he had agreed with the soldiers to intrigue with the disciples, 
and allow them to steal away and hide the body of our Lord. 
Habetis 4 custodiam , he said, ite, custodite sicut scitis —‘ You have 
a guard, the soldiers are at your orders. I do not forbid you, 
go yourselves, and set the guard as you like and as you deem 
to be necessary.’ On this order from the Governor, the Priests 
and the Pharisees collected together a large number of soldiers, 
and going to the sepulchre they took all care where there was 
most danger. The sepulchre was hewn out of the living rock, 
and the Body could not be stolen except by the door, and this 
was closed by a large stone, so that to remove it required more 
strength and daring than the disciples, who were weak and 
timorous, possessed. But that no precaution might be wanting, 
they secured the sepulchre well, sealing the stone and placing 
watch and ward on all convenient spots around. 

All this was not requisite to restrain the disciples, who 
were very far from having any thoughts of uniting together in 
order to steal away and hide the dead. They were so dead 
with fear themselves, and had betaken themselves to such 
4 St. Matt, xxvii. 65. 


AA 2 



404 


The Sacred Passion . 


concealment, that they hardly recovered themselves when our 
Lord went to seek them and collect them together after He 
had risen again from the dead. But all these preparations and 
all this diligence were nevertheless necessary to repress the 
Jews and convict their obstinacy and pertinacity. For on the 
one hand they had by taking so many precautions closed up 
all ways of escape, and so rendered themselves incapable of 
flying from the truth, and on the other hand they thereby 
provided witnesses who might give testimony to it, and such 
witnesses that they could neither undervalue them nor discredit 
them, but that when they said that our Lord had risen again 
it must be believed and taken for true, since they had been 
placed there by the Jews themselves as persons they could trust, 
in order that the disciples might not give the same out falsely. 

Miser et infelix Judcee. , says St. Athanasius, qui mortis 
vincula dissolvit , non solvet sepulchri sigilla ? qui expoliavit 
infernum , timebit monumenti signacula ? Muni sepulchrum , 
signa lapidem , statue milites , obside monumentum custodibus , isto 
modo egregium opus majus efficis, statuis enim spcctatores ac testes 
resurrectionis , meorumque miraculorum prcecones ministros tu 
prceparas —‘ O wretched and miserable Jew! He who broke 
the chains of death, shall He not break the seals of the 
sepulchre ? He Who despised hell, shall He fear the seals of 
the monument ? Guard the sepulchre, seal the stone, set there 
soldiers, encircle the monument with guards, and in this way 
the work which is in itself so excellent thou wilt render still 
more illustrious ; since thou wilt place sentinels there who will 
be present and be witnesses of My resurrection, and thou wilt 
prepare for Me servants who will be the proclaimers of My 
miracles.’ 

How much there is of truth in what St. Athanasius says is 
clearly seen from a letter which the Governor Pilate wrote to 
the Emperor about what had taken place in the Passion of our 
Saviour, and to which Hegisippus refers, and of which 
Tertullian in very ancient times makes mention. I have, there¬ 
fore, thought it desirable to give it here. It is of the following 
tenor— 



Pilates Letter to Tiberius. 


405 


Pontius Pilatus Claudio Tiberio, salutem,—Nuper accidit (et 
quod ipse probavi) Judceos per invidiam, se suosque posteros 
crudeli condemnatione punisse. Denique cum promissum haberent 
patres eorum, quod illis Deus eorum mitteret de coelo Sanctum 
suum, qui eorum Rex merito diceretur, et hwic se promiserat 
per Virginem missurum ad terras; istum itaque, me prceside in 
Judceam Deus Hebrceorum cum misisset, et vidissent eum ccecos 
illuminasse , leprosos mundasse, paralyticos curasse, dcemones ab 
omnibus fugasse, mortuos etiam suscitasse, imperasse ventis, 
ambulasse siccis pedibus super undas mar is, et multa alia 
fecisse; cu?n omnis populus Judceorum eum Filium Dei esse 
dicer et, invidiam contra eum pas si sunt pri?icipes pf udceorum, et 
timuerunt eum, mihique tradiderunt, et alia pro aliis mihi de e 0 
mentientes dixerunt, aperientes istum maguam esse, et contra 
legem eoruni agere. Ego autem credidi ita esse, et flagellatum 
tradidi ilium arbitrio eorum, illi autem crucifixerunt eic7n, et 
sepulto custodes adhibuerunt; ille autem, militibus meis custo- 
dientibus, iertio dies resurrexit. In tantem autem exarsit nequitia 
Judceeaum, ut darent pecuniam custodibus et dicerent, dicite 
quia discipuli ejus corpus ipsius rapuerunt; sed cum acce- 
pissent pecuniam, quod factum fuerat tacere non potuerunt, nam 
et ilium surrexisse testati sunt se vidisse et se a pfudceis pecuniam 
accepisse. 

Which being translated is as follows— 

‘ Pontius Pilate to Claudius Tiberius, greeting,—A little 
while ago (and I know it to be true) the Jews, inflamed by- 
envy and hatred, punished by a heavy condemnation them¬ 
selves and their posterity. It appears that their forefathers had 
received a promise from their God that He would send to them 
from heaven His Holy One, Who, with good reason, should be 
called their King, and Whom He promised should be sent on 
earth by means of a Virgin. The God of the Hebrews sent 
them this same Holy One to Judaea, I being Governor, and 
when they saw Him enlightening the blind, cleansing the lepers, 
curing the paralytic, chasing away devils from men’s bodies, 
and even raising the dead, commanding the winds, walking 
with dry feet on the waves of the sea, and doing other things, 



406 


The Sacred Passion. 


and when all the people of Judaea said He was the Son of God, 
then the Chiefs of the Jews were filled with envy against Him 
and with fear of Him, and delivered Him unto me. As they 
made a great many false charges against Him before me, saying 
that He was a magician and did many things against their law, 
I therefore believed them, and, having scourged Him, delivered 
Him up to their will. Then they crucified Him, and after they 
.had buried Him they set a watch over Him. But He, being 
guarded by my soldiers, rose again the third day. So greatly, 
however, was the malice of the Jews enkindled, that they gave 
money to the soldiers, and said, “ Say that His disciples have 
stolen His body away;” but the soldiers after they had received 
the money, were not able to keep silence, for they bare witness 
that they saw Him rise, and that they had received that money 
from the Jews.’ 


CHAPTER LI. 

The Blessed Virgin our Lady awaits the Resurrection of 
her Son. 

The Blessed Virgin our Lady, had now turned herself from 
Calvary and the place of the sepulchre to the Supper chamber 
of Mount Sion, doing violence to herself to tear herself away from 
that spot, and leaving her heart behind her in company with 
the Body of her Son at the sepulchre. She guided her steps 
along the same road along which she had seen her Son pass, 
laden with the wood of the Cross. She was full of sorrow and 
desolation, renewing as she went the remembrance of all her 
griefs, her veil and her robes sprinkled with the precious blood 
of her redemption, and all melting away in tears of love and 
sorrow. She went along the streets of the city sheltered by the 
shade and darkness of night, so as not to be recognized by all, 




Our Lady after the Burial. 


407 


and as this matter was so recent, every one was speaking of it, 
some in condemnation, and others in defence, and both the 
one and the other left sharp arrows in her loving heart. Many 
also would know her, speak of her; and what would they say ? 
Others who know her better would feel bound to come and 
address her; and what would these say ? At last she entered 
the Cenacle on Sion, and there her tears were renewed, as she 
remembered the mysteries which our Lord had celebrated there 
the night before, encircled (like the olive by its shoots) by all 
His Apostles. Now, what a sudden change ! They had all 
taken flight, and were in concealment; and He, after so bitter 
and ignominious a death, was laid in the sepulchre ! 

The Blessed Virgin entered into the house, and retired into 
a place apart therein. Then taking leave, with tears, of the 
holy women who had accompanied her, she remained alone to 
weep and relieve herself therewith, and began to pour out her 
heart in the presence of God with the most ardent affections. 
She contemplated her Son now dead, the world redeemed, God 
appeased, the way to heaven opened, the prophecies accom¬ 
plished, and the Blood of the New Testament shed. She 
retraced in thought many and many times the sorrowful Stations 
of that day, and her soul received great benefit by recalling 
them to memory, and that royal eagle of prayer, who was wont 
to rise to the highest air and fix her eyes intently on the sun, 
was now locked in the embrace of this inanimate corpse, tasting 
His blood and feeding thereon as it flowed out of all His 
wounds. 

She recalled to mind the preceding night, when, with so 
much tenderness and reverence He had taken leave of her. 
She beheld Him in the Garden, in His Agony, and engaged 
in such persevering prayer; she accompanied Him to the 
tribunals, going to and fro with Him to the judges; she noted 
His answers, marvelled at His silence, entered into His feelings, 
reverenced His obedience, and lovingly embraced His immense 
charity. She dwelt in memory on all the minute details of the 
trial, and as one who knew how to estimate such a treasure, she 
was careful not to lose a single particle of it. She compassion- 



408 


The Sacred Passion. 


ated His griefs; she gazed upon His sorrowful aspect; she 
heard His sighs; she was attentive to His words; and she 
collected together in her soul all those precious tears which, 
mixed with His blood, ran down His face. She kept all these 
memories in her breast, and pondered upon them in her heart. 

She descended in thought into Limbus and was present at 
the solemn festival of the holy Fathers. She recalled in spirit 
the sepulchre, she beheld the pierced hands and feet, and once 
again the cruel blows of the hammers by which He was nailed 
upon the Cross, sounded in her ears and wounded her heart; 
she beheld His head pierced with thorns, His hair matted with 
blood, His beard torn, His cheeks livid, His chest disjointed, 
His shoulders wounded, His side and His Heart opened— 
and she cried aloud with tears to God to raise up again and 
restore to His Body His Soul, which, when about to die, His 
Son, with a loud voice, and in her hearing, had placed in His 
hands. 

She thought on the Apostles who had taken flight and were 
hidden; on the other disciples who had believed in Him and 
were now scandalized; and on the mystical body of her Son, 
not less wounded and lacerated than His natural body. And 
she, as the Mother of the one as well as of the other, desired 
life and health for both, and to gather them together and shelter 
them and revive them with the warmth of her own loving heart. 

In these thoughts and prayers the whole of the Friday night 
was spent, and as soon as day broke, that loving Mother took 
all care and diligence to gather together the children who had 
been dispersed by the force of the tempest, and who with the 
consciousness of their fault were full of sorrow and discourage¬ 
ment. Where were they all ? What would they do ? What 
would they say ? What would be their thoughts ? What tears 
would they shed? And when the blood of Jesus Christ began 
to work a spirit of penitence in them, they would be full of 
confusion at their weakness, repentance for their sin, animated 
to amendment, and desirous to find favour at the hands of their 
Master that they might be restored to His grace. And what 
greater favour, what greater consolation or cause of confidence 



Our Lady and the Church. 


409 


as to being restored to the favour of the Son, could they have, 
than the finding His Mother favourable to them ? Perchance 
the Blessed Virgin sent the Evangelist in search of them, and 
in her name to salute them and encourage them, and where did 
he find them? Who gave him tidings of them? Or, perchance, 
all or the greater portion of them on having fled from the 
Garden, collected together in the Supper chamber, and re¬ 
mained hidden there until the Blessed Virgin returned, leaving 
her Son dead in the sepulchre; and then, with what tears 
would they receive her ? How they would all kneel at her feet, 
acknowledging her excellent dignity, extolling her faith, praising 
and exalting her courage, delighting in her protection, and 
desiring and entreating her favour ! 

O most merciful Virgin, receive the sinners who have 
recourse to thee ! These men whom thou seest here cowardly 
and weak, are the captains whom thy Son has appointed for the 
conquest of the world; they are the princes of His kingdom, 
the shepherds of His fold, and the firm bones which are to 
sustain His mystical body. Thou thinkest it no little thing, 
O Lady, that thy Son, in this His bitter absence left thee 
this sweet and highly prized pledge; so greatly did He love us, 
that when He was delivered up into the hands of His enemies 
He especially commanded them to do His own no evil. And 
this innocent Lamb having allowed Himself to be sacrificed 
with so great cruelty, promised that His bones should not be 
touched. This, O Lady, is the family which remains in thy 
charge; this is the Church, which though tender and weak as 
a child, is now truly formed and strengthened within the shel¬ 
ter of thy maternal womb, in order that being vivified in due 
season by the fulness of the Holy Spirit, it may come to light 
by a blessed nativity, to the glory of Him Who redeemed it 
and made it beautiful with His Blood, and for the good of all 
mankind. 

In this way all that day of the Sabbath passed in that holy 
house and Cenacle of Sion. The Evangelist would recount 
very minutely to the rest of his fellow disciples the history of 
the Passion at which he had been present, and the different 



4 io 


The Sacred Passion. 


kinds of insults and sorrows which had been showered that day 
upon his good Master, the patience with which He had suffered, 
the gentleness with which He had answered, the silence He 
had kept, the dignity and calmness He had preserved, the 
words which He had spoken on the Cross, the great cry with 
which He had expired, the signs and wonders which had 
happened upon His death, and the words with which the 
Centurion and those who surrounded him had confessed Him. 
This talk would console them in their great tribulation, and 
above all, the presence and the words of the Blessed Virgin, 
who, forgetful of her own bitter pain, attended to their needs 
and weakness, gave them a sure hope of the resurrection of her 
Son, and the fulfilment of all His words and promises. This, 
then, was the state of things on that day. The Chief Priests 
persevered in their envy and fury, and desired to lay hands on 
the disciples, in order to do to them what they had done to 
their Master, and not to rest until they had blotted His memory 
out of the world. The people were scandalized and divided in 
opinion, all speaking of the matter, some in one way and some 
in another. Some approved of our Saviour’s Person and others 
condemned Him, following the opinion of their scribes and 
leaders. All were amazed when they compared the history of 
His life, His preaching, and His miracles, with the event of a 
death so unfortunate and ignominious, and of this there was 
much talk in all places and by all persons. The Apostles were 
timorous and in concealment, waiting to see what would be the 
end of such new and strange things. The Blessed Virgin our 
Lady retired within her cell, wept over her solitude with 
marvellous patience and conformity to the will of God, and 
with a sure and certain hope of seeing her Son risen and in 
glory. The dead body of our Lord was in the sepulchre, 
wrapped in its linen cloths and napkins, prepared with myrrh 
and aloes in great abundance, as was the custom. 

The sepulchre itself was well sealed and guarded, and thus 
provision was made against all the calumnies which might be 
brought forward by the Jews, and hearts w r ere disposed to faith 
in His resurrection. For the sepulchre was new 7- , and in it no 



Holy Saturday. 


411 


other dead man had ever been laid, that it might not be said 
that it was some one else who had risen again. It was hollowed 
out of the living rock, that it might faithfully keep its deposit, 
and that no one might be able to remove the Body excepting 
by the door. The door was well fastened and sealed, and that 
there might be no occasion for fear, it was defended by a 
sufficient number of soldiers, if by chance any should come to 
steal away the dead body, and also that they might be witnesses 
that He had come forth alive of Himself. Lastly, His Soul was 
in the Limbus of the holy Fathers, giving even them proofs of 
His power and majesty in the kingdom of hell, encircled by 
kings, patriarchs, and prophets, and of all the good that the 
world had ever held until that day. Withdrawn, as it were, for 
that brief space into the secret parts of the earth, He was 
arranging His triumph, and disposing that solemn entry which 
on the third day He was to make into the world with so great 
and so illustrious a company, and after forty days, into heaven, 
taking after Him the captives whom He had ransomed, accord¬ 
ing as it is written in the Psalms 1 —Ascendens in altwn captivam 
duxitcciptivitatem, and as the Apostle says 2 — 4 He that ascended, 
what is it, but because He also descended first into the lower 
parts of the earth ? He that descended is the same also that 
ascended above all the heavens, that He might fill all things 
with the glory and majesty of His Presence. 

1 lxvii. 19. 2 Ephes. iv. 9. 


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